Breath of life
by ievandie
Summary: COMPLETED!!! Sorry for the long wait, but it is finished. Summary: Some years after the War of the Ring, terror is rising again in Udûn, Legolas and Gimli battle with orcs again. Yet, all is not what it seems.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I (unlike all the others) do own Tolkien and what he wrote. (JOKE). Well, if I did, I would not be teaching for a living So, I do own the rest.  
  
O.K. first of all: my native is not English so I am open to improvements on my grammar or words.  


Well, this story takes place a few years after the ring has been destroyed.  
  


1. Prologue (original, yes, I know)  
  


Legolas Greenleaf, Son of Thranduil, Lord of the Elves of Mirkwood, was back in Mirkwood. This was the first day since his return to his homeland that he was not preoccupied with duties that came with his royal status. This morning he got up before the sunrise, put on his old hunting garment, got his bow and arrows and silently slipped out of the castle.  
  
As he rode down the forest road he was not aware of two eyes following him.  
  
Legolas was at home again. His last travels with Gimli lasted for almost three years. And still...  
  
If it wasn't for the fact that Gimli wanted to return to the Lonely Mountain for some time, they would still be wandering through Middle Earth and fulfilling their promise to each other to travel through all of it. But now Legolas was here, back again in Mirkwood. Back again with his people, his father and friends. Back to where his royalty was known to everyone and back to where everyone acted on that. The burden of his royalty felt heavy. And through the years it seemed to become even heavier.  
  
Legolas sighed. It was still before dawn, although it would not be long. He found himself looking up at the dark forms above him: the branches of a tall tree.   
  
I'll climb this tree and look at the daybreak from above, maybe that will make me see things in a more hopeful perspective, he thought.  
  
High above the ground in one of the top branches of the tree he listened to the wind, it was a cool breeze. Why, he asked the wind, why do I have this feeling in my heart? This is my home, why don't I feel at home then? Did I travel too much and too far? Did I loose a part of myself in the travel with the Fellowship? I did change, we all did then. But the others don't seem to be as restless as I am. Even Gimli is not. It feels like wherever I go, I'm only half there. Where is my other half?  
  
And then Legolas could feel the wind pick up. For a moment the soft breeze turned warm and then went into a blow. Legolas heard the cries of battle and then all of a sudden the wind dropped to a soft whisper that filled his head.

"Melamin..."  
  


With that the first beams of sunlight spread over the tops of Mirkwood.  
  


A/N: Melamin means loved one: but you already knew that, right?!

14-08-2003: Just replaced 'Middle Earth' by 'it'. It's better this way.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. It's actually rather sad that it's finished! But oh so great!


	2. Father's thoughts

Disclaimer: I am too happy with my own love to want to own Legolas. I whished I owned J.R.R. Tolkien's range of ideas. You get the message, don't you?

  
  


Chapter 2: Father's thoughts.

  
  


Thranduil, Lord of the Elves of Mirkwood, saw his son disappear in the verge of the wood. He sighed. He felt Legolas's restlessness and it had become heavier every time they met. This time his son was really downhearted. He could almost see the heartache radiating from his son's eyes. 

'Small children, small worries but with them growing up, their problems did as well.' thought Thranduil and let out a sigh, if only his wife was still with them...

  
  


Thranduil's relation with his son was one of love and respect. But when it came to matters of the heart.... He and his wife equally loved and cared for their children, yet she only needed one look at their children to know what the problem was. "Oh, Nîn naeg gur, ni harthon gwa min arad" the whisper that left his lips was only for the stars to hear. (Oh, my heart's pain, I hope to be together one day)

She always saw through everyone. She was needed here, with him... 

  
  


He had, on previous occasions, tried to talk to Legolas about his feelings. But the only thing Legolas could say was that he was at a loss, feeling depressed. This concerned Thranduil, for it was dangerous for elves to feel this way. Thranduil had lost friends who had died of a broken heart. Yet, he did not know of anyone hurting his son like that. There had been maids around, Thranduil could not help but smile, beautiful maids yes, but there never was any seriousness in those relationships. And yet... 'Did I miss something?'.

  
  


He knew Legolas changed during his quest with the Fellowship of the ring. 'At first I thought that he had just grown up. I know war can make an infant into a warrior.

Not that I thought Legolas to be an infant when I sent him to Rivendell to attend the counsel of Elrond...'

However on returning after the crowning and wedding of Elessar and Arwen Undómiel (the Evenstar), he could sense Legolas had changed. 

'Even then I had the feeling that there was more than just mere growing-up from war but since Legolas left very soon with Gimli to travel 'all of Middle Earth', I did not had to think about it then.'

  
  


This time Thranduil had to. The pain his son was in was obvious to see, at least with a father's eye. Could it be the love for this world that was consuming his son from within? He knew of soldiers returning from war with this everlasting look of loss about them. They did not live long. Most of them journeyed to the Grey Havens and over the seas within a decade. But it had been longer since the one ring was destroyed. And still Legolas was here in Middle Earth. 'Just not all of Legolas,' Thandruil thought, 'only part of him.'

  
  


Thandruil looked at the sunrise from his balcony and made a decision. Only yesterday a herald from Lothlórien arrived with a message that urgently needed an answer. He would send Legolas away. Maybe a task, although in no way equal to the quest of the One Ring, would give Legolas some grip back on his life. 

  
  


Yes he would send Legolas, and if he would ask him to first see Elessar, who knows what the reunification with an old friend could do.

  
  


A/N: 24 may 2003: Since the time frame changed during writing, I had to make a minor adjustment.

14 August 2003:'Just dotting my i's and crossing my t's' as an english teacher of mine used to say!


	3. The White City

Disclaimer: My name is not J.R.R. Tolkien. Result: I do not own any characters that belong to him. 

  
  


Chapter 3: The White City.

  
  


Legolas travelled over the Old Forest Road to the Anduin. He got a boat and followed the Anduin to the Gladden Fields and further to the eaves of Lórien. He passed the North and South Undeep; seeing the Brown Lands to the east. They were a forlorn country where it was said that once the entwives lived. 

  
  


During the daytime, the beauty of nature on his journey settled his restlessness. 

But often late at night he would found himself gazing at the stars by a dead fire, shivering. He knew this could not go on any longer; the mere feeling of shivering was not common to elves. They did not feel cold the way humans did. 'This feeling will kill me in the long run' Legolas thought. 

  
  


Every time the sun rose he would think back to that morning in Mirkwood when the wind whispered 'loved one' to him. Legolas did not understand: there was no loved one, or was he the loved one? Whose? 

  
  


When he travelled the lower part of the river Anduin, Legolas was reminded of the journey with the Fellowship. This was the part of the river that they travelled after their stay in Lothlórien. He saw the Argonath again and landed on the banks of Nen-Hithel, the lake just before the Falls of Rauros. At Amon Hen he visited the place where Boromir was killed by the Orcs and stayed there for a night. In the morning he got up and went his way on foot, over the plains of Parth Galen. He found his way through the mouth of the Entwash. This delta was a very wet area with lots of birds and animals in it. There was a large variety of plants. For man it was an area almost impossible to cross. But for an elf it was easy. Legolas jumped over pools and streams, did not sink into the marshes and could sometimes travel in the branches of the willows that grew here.

  
  


After the Mouth of the Entwash he could see the peaks of the Ered Nimrais: the White Mountains of Gondor. He used the Nardol as a beacon and finally came to the Great West Road. This he followed for two days* until he reached Forannost, the North Gate in the wall Rammas Echor around the city. The guards lent him a horse and Legolas rode to Minas Tirith. 

  
  


In the grant hall of the Palace King Aragorn II Elessar was holding audiences for the people of his kingdom. These audiences were public and accessible to anyone who wanted to talk to the king. Legolas looked around and saw a man in palace-clothes who was tidying books and some sheets of parchment from a table. He approached the table.

"Good day to you sir, I'm so sorry, but if you want an audience with our king I'm afraid you are too late. There is another one next month, I could put your name down for that one if you like"

"Maybe, maybe, tell me first: how many audiences still to go?" Legolas answered.

"This is the last one sir, the clerk is just taking the last minutes of this afternoon"

"What I have to say to your king is not much, and I've travelled from far..."

"I really am sorry but..."

"And if I just greet your king, to let him know that I'm here?"

The man was an attentive servant, Legolas thought, eager to protect his king's time.

"It is noble of you to watch over his time," Legolas continued, "but all I'll do is greet your king."

The man contemplated for a moment but was persuaded and nodded to the throne that Aragorn was sitting on. Legolas approached.

"Vedui Elessar, taur o Gondor" (Greetings Elessar, king of Gondor) Legolas said.

With a serious but slightly tired glance Aragorn looked up. He started to smile.

"Mae govannen, Legolas, ernil o Eryn Lasgalen" (Well met, Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood) [A/N: Mirkwood was renamed after the fall of Sauron into Greenwood the Great, but you probably knew that already]. 

With these words Aragorn rose from his throne and came down the few steps towards Legolas. Both men spread their arms and they embraced thightly.

"It is a pleasure to see you again my prince," Aragorn said, putting his hands on Legolas's shoulders and looking at him with a grin on his face. "The feeling is mutual king Elessar".

They both turned their heads at the sound of falling books. The servant who had been talking to Legolas dropped his pile of books and papers when he saw and heard his king's reaction to this man. "Oh, my Lords, I'm so sorry, I did not know, I..."

"It is alright," Legolas said, "as I said before I think you are a very dutyfull man."

"But, I almost sent you away..." the man continued when Aragorn cut in: "If Prince Legolas wanted you to treat him like a Prince, he would have let you know his full title, Seraph, it's alright."

"Come with me Legolas, we have much to talk about". 

Aragorn left the hall and lead Legolas to a beautiful hallway that ended in two broad stairs descending to an open colonnade that boarded a garden. From the top of the stairs through the open asymmetric arches you could see the trees and flowers in the garden. Around the stone bannisters and the pillars there were vines sculptured, that were repeated by real vines in the garden.

"I see, that you did 'some' redecorating," Legolas said.

Aragorn gestured around: "Well this part of the palace is based on Lothlòrien, Arwen was responsible for this" he said.

"It's beautiful, " the fair-haired elf said, "Speaking of Arwen: is she well?"

"She is, she has a visitor and when the two of them start talking: you don't want to be around as a male be it elf, man, dwarf, hobbit or maybe even orc."

"Sounds like the answer to the new rising troubles with orcs!" Legolas said with a snigger.

Aragorn laughed: "You are very close to the truth even if your life could not be save if she heard you!".

Legolas arched his eyebrows in wonder. Aragorn continued: "They will be at dinner, so you will see for yourself , that is, if they have time to stop talking and eat!".

  
  


A/N: I've used the beautiful pages of the Encyclopedia of Arda for the description of Middle Earth and as a general reference. I strongly recommend a visit!

* I've made a guess (and I'm bad at that) of the time it would take an elf to travel from Nardol to the Forannost. Please correct me if I'm wrong!

27/2/03 only changed a bit from the greetings of Aragorn and Legolas.

14/08/03: Last edits after finishing the whole story!


	4. Dinner at the castle

Disclaimer: I am the ghost of J.R.R. Tolkien and I've returned to hunt you forever! (Yeah, in my dreams!) I would not dare to compare myself to that genius. However: I do own the rest. The trick with the tresses was inspired by a scene from 'De strijd om het goudschip' by Willy van der Heide. It's part of the 'Bob Evers'-series, which I highly recommend!

  
  


Chapter 4: Dinner at the castle.

  
  


The night had fallen over Gondor and in the streets of the White City lanterns were being lit. Legolas saw the city lighten up as he walked through the gallery from his guestroom to the dining hall. The dining hall could contain parties of up to 300 people and was in fact far too large to dine in with a small company. When Legolas entered the hall he saw that just one small table in front of the hearth was set and Arwen and her friend had already arrived. As he approached the table he heard footsteps behind him. Aragorn came up to his friend just before he reached the table.

  
  


"Good evening ladies, glad that you were able to join us!" Aragorn greeted good-humoured. He kissed Arwen on the cheek and her friend on the hand. Arwen got up and hugged Legolas. "Suilannad melldir"(Greetings friend) Arwen continued in Sindarin, since it was the language of the elves and Aragorn had been speaking it since he came to stay with her father, there was no need for the Common Speech.

  
  


"Legolas may I introduce you to Thûlocuil, Thûlocuil, this is Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen." Arwen's friend had, to his surprise, a lightly tanned skin and the hand he was offered was not as delicate as he would expect from an elven-maid. "It is an honour to meet you your highness" she lightly bowed her head. "How do you do?" he answered her formal greeting. Legolas sat down next to Arwen. He did not see Arwen raising her eyebrows; normally Thûlocuil was not at all impressed by royalty. On the contrary, she was a warrior and ranger. The first was rarely seen amongst elves, the second rarely heard of amongst man. Arwen knew that Thûlocuil was proud of it too and that she did not think herself less than any being, king, queen, warrior or prince. Her friend was behaving strange. 

  
  


The first course was being served. 

"How come that you are travelling without your faithful companion Legolas? People will not believe it is you if there is no dwarf around!" Arwen asked. "Gimli wanted to return to the Lonely Mountain for some time, that's why". 

"But we did hear some amazing stories about you two," Aragorn joined in, "something about a dwarf running ten miles behind a horse on which was a laughing elf?" 

Legolas smiled: "Even our fame is faster than Gimli on foot." 

"I heard that there was more to it," Arwen said with a mischievous look, "Wasn't there an elven maiden who paid a certain dwarf for some tresses of a certain Prince's hair?" She laughed 

"No!" Aragorn almost chocked in his soup. "He didn't..." 

It was obvious from the look on Legolas's face that Gimli did just that. Aragorn was laughing too now. Arwen saw Legolas cast a look at Thûlocuil, who was also smiling. "Im daron Legolas, Im daron..." (I stop) Arwen said, still chuckling, "It was just such a nice story..." She was about to laugh again, when she saw just a hint of pain in his eyes. 

  
  


Quickly she changed the subject: "How long will you grant us the pleasure of your presence my dear friend?" "Only just a few days, I am on an errand for my father," and with a smile he added: "And that is a shame since I would love to stay around and take a good look at your redecorates." They talked about the new wing of the castle, both elves equally appalled to the beauty of nature and how it was captured by the artists that worked on the new wing. During their conversation Arwen took a closer look at Legolas's face. She could not find any proof of the pain she had seen in his eyes, but still... 

  
  


The table was cleared and the second course was served. Arwen was tearing her bread and said: "Well then you both stay just a few days here, it is a pity." Aragorn who had been talking to Thûlocuil, turned his head. "Yes you will have to do with just me again, I do pity you nîn gîl". Arwen smiled at her husband and he returned her smile with an even broader one. 

  
  


Legolas looked at Thûlocuil, Thûl o cuil, 'Breathe of life', it was a wonderful name, so much more imaginative then Greenleaf. He smiled at the thought, he never found his name a problem. He turned to her: "So you're also just travelling trough? May I ask what your affairs are milady?" 'You will like this Legolas, ' Arwen thought. Thûlocuil looked at Legolas. She liked the story about him and Gimli. What kind of man was he, this 'Prince'? "What do you think is an elven-maids business Prince Legolas?" she asked. Legolas frowned. He just wanted to know why she was here, where she was from, what she was like... Without thought he said: "I do not want to think, I want to know!" What did I just say? Legolas eyes widened with surprise.

  
  


Arwen was amused and amazed. She had not expected this answer of Thûlocuil to Legolas's question and certainly not the response she got in return. She looked at her friend. Thûlocuil was looking straight back, with eyes that almost begged her not to tell. Arwen almost imperceptibly nodded her head. She would leave it, for now.

  
  


Why did he say that?! Legolas was maybe even more surprised then Arwen. Why by the name of the Valar would he want to know anything about this elf? This was not his normal behaviour. He, as a prince, had been in situations like this before, he was even trained in 'entertaining conversations with other royalties or more common visitors (also sensitive ones)'! 

  
  


"Are you practising to act and sound more like your father, Legolas?" Arwen ended the short silence that had fallen. Not so kind, but it would do to start another conversation Aragorn thought, as he understood what Arwen was doing. However she and Thûlocuil should not think that Legolas was a person to play games with, he frowned, I will tell him... but then Arwen's cool hand on his forearm stopped him. "Oh, and talking of your father, how is he?" Arwen continued. 

"He is fine, he did ask me to bring you both his greetings" Legolas found his tongue back. Soon the conversation got to ruling kingdoms and the bands of orcs that still roamed Gondor's east-border and the south of Mirkwood. 

  
  


The dinner continued. Thûlocuil was just silent.

After a while Legolas could not imagine that he had wanted to know everything there was about this elf. Yet, when he accidentally met her eyes, he found himself casting his down. Only Arwen saw that Thûlocuil did the same.

  
  


A/N: I like to thank everyone who has reviewed the first two chapters! Thanks, especially 

Rebekka: thanks for your help.

Pink Martini: hope your turtle is running again.

And Sorrow Personified: I've read your story: see review there. This chapter is rather Mary-Sue-ish, but keep reading and it will get less MS, and better (I think). 

14 08 2003: Just the last edit!


	5. An evening stroll

5. Disclaimer: I own Thûlocuil, but just her name and character, not even her looks, the lands she dwells in or the people she meets. It's simple: the rest is not mine. (But the story is!).

  
  


A/N: I probably should not even make this comment to a review but:

You violate your own and my freedom by making age a point here. You deny yourself and others the possibility to do what you want when you are older, if you are telling yourself (or others) what they should think, feel or look like on a certain age. 

  
  


You make your world smaller. 

Do not do that. 

  
  


Imagination is there to make our world broader and more beautiful, don't limit it. 

  
  


Chapter 5: An evening stroll

  
  


The dinner was over. Thûlocuil and Legolas had retired to their rooms. Aragorn and Arwen strolled together in one of the gardens of the palace. They had done this since they were married: one last stroll before sleeping. Whatever happened during the day; whenever they were both in Minas Tirith they would have this stroll. It was sacred to them and a cherished memory of their first stroll together in Rivendell. 

  
  


"You are quiet, nîn taur," (my king) Arwen said. Aragorn took her hand and brought it to his lips, drawing her to him with his other arm. He kissed her neck. "I did not mean this kind of silence... and you know that," she smiled at him. When she saw his eyes, she frowned. "Tell me, what are you thinking of my love" she asked.

  
  


He looked at her, she was beautiful as ever and she was his. There were times he still could not believe that she choose him. He smiled and then sighed. "Well, it is just that I don't like the idea of you and Thûlocuil playing games with Legolas, I did not like the way you two lied about Thûlocuil's activities." his voice was stern: "I've been talking to him today, he's just not hisself lately and..." 

  
  


"Im tíron ha anim" Arwen said softly. (I see it too) She remembered the pain she saw in Legolas's eyes earlier that evening. "But I believe that Thûlocuil has no intention to hurt Legolas. She'll never be able to hurt him in anyway my love, for it would get back to herself in hundredfold." Aragorn looked at his wife in surprise. "But how would you..." "Know this?" She completed his sentence for him, "I don't know; I just feel it." "Something elvish then?" he said with a smile and kissed her once more. He himself knew he loved Arwen from the first moment he saw her. But he had known Legolas for many years and he sometimes had the feeling that for elves, being immortal, 'love' was a very lingering process. Although Arwen... "Do they know?" "I don't know," she whispered against his chest. Then took his hand and began strolling again. "I just know that Thûlocuil does not want him to know what she does, so I have to ask you: please do not fill him in." 

"And what makes you think that Legolas will ask about her whatsoever? Knowing Legolas, he will not talk about this," Aragorn said.

"Promise me this: even not when he's begging you, for he will my love, he will."

  
  


Legolas heard a knock on his door. "Minno!" (Enter). Aragorn entered his room. Legolas was sitting on the windowsill. 'Stargazing' Aragorn remembered from their journey together. "Are you allright my friend?" Aragorn asked. Legolas cast him a warm smile: "You always were and will be a king that cares for his people, won't you Aragorn? Yes, I'm comfortable; it is good to see you and Arwen again." Aragorn nodded. "It is good to be seen again. It is a pity you have to leave so soon." There was a small silence, and they just enjoyed each other's company, as good friends do. "Well," Aragorn broke the silence: "I'm going to retire, if you want anything, just ask one of the servants." He turned and started towards the door.

"Before you leave, can I ask you something? About this Thûlocuil..." A silent smile crossed Aragorn's face before he turned back to Legolas, that little Evenstar of his... "Yes?" 

"What do you know about her? You said that I was near the truth when I called her our solution to the orc problem, but for what I've seen tonight... I would fear for her life if she was only so much as looking at an orc from miles away. How do you explain this?" Legolas voice was even a little commanding. 

  
  


"I know..., but, well..." Aragorn felt forced into a corner. Legolas was a person he trusted beyond anything and he still believed that the prince should not be played with, whatever the outcome of that game might be. But if Aragorn made a promise... Legolas was right, he thought, he always had been and would be a king, a promise was sacred to him. 

  
  


Legolas felt Aragorn's hesitation, it only added to his curiosity. Why would his friend be embarrassed about this? "I do not want to embarrass you Aragorn, I just want to know..." "Well, I can tell you this," Aragorn cut in, in a determinate voice, "She is not at all like you saw her this evening. She even seemed to be impressed by your title, let me tell you: she is not! I guess that Thûlocuil is probably thinking that a prince would not approve of her activities... And that is all I am allowed to tell you, sorry." He made a dissatisfied gesture. "Bain dû, Legolas" (Fair night). 

"Bain dû, mellon" (Fair night, friend) Legolas returned. 

  
  


After Aragorn left the room, Legolas returned his gaze to the stars. Only, he saw none. This conversation with Aragorn had made him even more curious. Especially since Aragorn pictured a whole different person then the one he had seen this evening. He hated when people reacted different because of his title and she reacted different from how she normally would to his title! He shrugged and decided not to think about it anymore. He started to get ready to go to bed, but found himself only five minutes later: his top clothes taken of and staring out of the window. He was still wearing his white smooth silk smock with the bands across his chest unattached. He also had his tights on, yet only one of his knee-high leather boots. 

  
  


Legolas sighed and made a face. This was not going to work. He picked up his already removed boot and started dressing again. He would go to the training course and have some heavy training, maybe that would clear his mind.

  
  


A/N: 22 feb 2003: just removing irritating spelling errors.

A/N: 13 sept 2003: the same.


	6. Tough training

Disclaimer: I think that a truly great writer can get other people's imagination flowing. Thus does J.R.R. Tolkien. I just own my own imagination.

  
  
  
  


Chapter 6: Tough training...

  
  


Legolas crossed the inner courtyard and the hall. He walked through the outer courtyard and came to the stables. He knew where Aragorn's training field was and had no trouble in finding it in the dark. Behind the stables was a rough terrain. This was where Aragorn's men trained when they were in the capital. It contained several swivelling training dolls, different targets, some pools with beams over them for practising balance and lots and lots and even more lots of mud. 'A perfect place to get yourself completely covered with mud and forget about everything in the world. Which is exactly what I want to do' Legolas thought with a grin. However, even before he could see the field his sensitive elven ears picked up sounds of heavy breathing and groaning. Somebody was training and by the sounds of it exhausting himself. Silently Legolas approached. In the light of several fires in steel baskets he could see a man. A flicker of metal and then with great speed one of the training dolls was thrust several times with a sword. 

  
  


So much for a rough and solitarily training! Normally Legolas would like some company or an opponent for training, but not tonight. He decided to wait and see if the man was almost finished. He turned around and without any effort climbed the nearest tree and sat down on a branch. The soldier on the training field had now lowered his sword and was carefully whipping it with a piece of cloth. He set the sword against a rack and sat down on the ground crossed-legged. Legolas noticed that the warrior's feet were bare. This was strange. He never saw a warrior sit down on a training field or, for that matter, fight on bare feet. No, that was not entirely true, a smile crossed his face, he did see some of his friends battle on bare feet, but that had been Merry, Pippin, Sam and Frodo: hobbits! Hopefully this sitting down was the ending of the training session... 

  
  


Alas, the warrior below was on his feet again and began to move his arms slowly and precisely. It looked like slow-motion martial arts. Legolas's attention was now completely attracted, for he, being a warrior himself, saw the supreme control of the movements. The skill of this warrior could not be overlooked. Yet, Aragorn never mentioned anybody this skilled in his troops, as he would likely do. 'I definitely want to match this man someday but not tonight.' Legolas thought. It did not look as if the man was nearly finished so Legolas lowered himself from the tree and with a sigh began to retreat to the palace.

  
  


He took a path through the gardens this time. Tall trees towered over him. He was just looking up at them, wondering if there was another place to fire some arrows, when he stumbled and nearly smacked face-down on the ground. "Faeg ungol o eryn!" he exclaimed. [Something like: bad spider of the woods]. This just was not his night! For an elf to stumble! Where did his senses go? He got up again and searched the source of his unelvish behaviour. There was a small bundle on the path. He kicked it with his boot. It was soft. He picked it up. It was some kind of cloth. Legolas took the cloth to a nearby torch. It was velt in a green shade. I have seen this fabric before, he thought. He took a better look and then suddenly remembered. This was like the fabric Thûlocuil wore at dinner. Perculiar!

Looking better around him Legolas saw in the back lightening from the nearby training field that filtered through the stems of the trees, another bundle and some things on the path. He collected them. Examining them carefully his earlier conclusion was confirmed. This was the silver-grey lace overskirt that looked like a tunic, she had wore over the dress. The other 'things' turned out to be two silver-grey shoes. He remembered her outfit for it had made him wonder: velt was a fibre that he had never seen on an elf. It was more earthly, more something Hobbits would wear. . . For the second time this evening his mind went to his short friends. And then it clicked: velt dress - bare feet: the amazing warrior on the training field could be no other than the elven maiden he met at dinner!

  
  


"Lost dôl!" he scolded himself. [Empty head]. This was not possible... and yet... With a resolute look on his face he replaced her things on the path and returned to the branch he sat on earlier. Here he stayed and observed her until she finally retreated. By then he had his conclusion conclusively confirmed: she had removed her helmet once or twice to wipe the mud from her face and he had been able to distinguish her face and brown hair on these occasions. 

  
  


In the light of the same torch he used for his examination of the clothes he saw her picking up her garments. When she passed the torch he could see that she was completely covered with mud, exactly like he had planned to get.

  
  


A/N: 13 September 2003: last changes in spelling.


	7. Tough study

Disclaimer: Just saw TTT yesterday: marvellous! I do not own anything that J.R.R. Tolkien (and for that matter: Peter Jackson, don't curse die-hards) already owns.

  
  


7. Tough study

  
  


After a nice bath Thûlocuil cleaned her training garments with a soft cloth. She greased the leather tunic, arm- and legplates. Then, with content, she looked around. She was clean and warm from the bath, her gear was clean and greased, she had had a good tough training; what more could a warrior want for? 

In her mind she saw a flash of two eyes. Thûlocuil sighed. She knew who he was before she was introduced to him. Stories of the Fellowship were told everywhere in Middle Earth. Different from each other, but the still single Elf prince spoke much to the imagination of maids and for that was a favoured gossip and story-telling object. She had heard stories about him from she-elfs and women, from Dwarves and Hobbits; these had been full of friendship and the ones told by Hobbits tend to be very long too. She had even heard Orcs talk about the Prince of Mirkwood, full of hate but, none the less, with admiration. And now she had seen him in real life...

He did not look as prissy as some, men, had told her, and not as divine as some, women, had told her. They all had forgotten to look at his eyes. They had been polite but she had seen the hint of irritation he was trying to hide on their introduction, the friendship for Aragorn and Arwen and the sudden curiosity towards her later on. 

'I do not want to think, I want to know' a voice echoed in her head. Warmth ran through her blood. Yes of course she liked the way he looked and there had been a warmth in his voice when talking of his Dwarf-friend but... He was an elf, an elf who had witnessed personally the devilish things Sauron had done to his kind and friends. She ought to beware of him! With all pleasure I'll keep my eyes on him! She saluted to herself in the water of the bath. With a smile she pulled the plug and turned to pick up her things from the floor. 

Back in her bedroom she sat down on the bed. The adrenaline from the training had not yet died out and she knew that sleep would not come easy. But then there was no need for it right now; the next days would not be though, she would travel through secured and familiar terrain, besides, an elf did not get too tired when skipping a night's sleep. First she packed her things into two bags she could place on either side of her horse's saddle. The dress and lace tunic went at the bottom. There would be no need for them were she was going. Their material was not at all elvish, but felt would not tear when she would crawl underground, slog through streams, and scramble over rocks and cliffs or heaving swords at the next orc. Although she did most of these things in more appropriated clothes.

Since her travel tomorrow would be on horse back she kept a sleeveless tunic behind. This one had a split both in front and back to sit on a horse with ease. For now she had just put on a dark-brown, rough silk, long sleeved shirt and black silk pants. The shirt was decorated around the neck, wrists, and lower hem with sand-coloured embroidery. Her boots were on in a minute. She let her still wet brown hair hang loose. Then she left her room, went down some stairs and came to a corridor in the oldest wing of the castle. From her earlier visits to Arwen she knew where she was going. There was an old oaken door with iron ornate hinges. She opened it and was standing in the dark library. With her elven-sight she had no trouble finding the heard with wooden blocks beside it and a tinder in the soft light from the stars that came through the windows. She lit a fire. After that she went to the large books with dark blue covers on which was written in silver 'Index'. She would read all she could find about this Prince.

  
  


Aragorn woke up, he felt hungry. He watched Arwen sleeping next to him. Her open eyes reflected what little light came in through the transparent curtains. He went to the window and pushed aside the curtains. From the constellation of the stars he made up that it was past midnight but still some hours until the break of day. He would go down to the kitchen, see if he could find some food. He put on a silk bathrobe and opened the door. "The notorious food-lifter strikes again..." Arwen whispered. "Dîn melethril egor Im avon anna nad" Aragorn whispered back [Silence lover or I will not give a thing]. "Im edhellen, Im avo boe aes ned i fuin [I'm elvish, I don't need food in the middle of the night]. "Faed deri..." [Just wait...] and with that the 'notorious food-lifter' was on his way. 

  
  


Returning from the kitchen Aragorn saw a streak of light coming from under the library doors. I wonder who is working there tonight, he thought and entered. In front of a nice fire he saw Thûlocuil. She was sitting in an easy chair with legs crossed and her boots on a little table. In her lap was an old book and on another chair there was a pile of books waiting. When he came in, she looked up. "Bain dû, Thûlocuil". She returned his goodnight. "I thought you would not mind" she continued, gesturing around her. "Not at all, please..." he motioned her not to get up. "Your library is well organized, it is a pleasure to search for information in it" she said. "Thank you." 

  
  


There was a silence. Then Aragorn said: "I know that Arwen knows you very well and the two of you've probably talked about this, but I would like to say something to you about Prince Legolas." 

Her interest was drawn at once, a sublime smile being his encouragement. Aragorn continued: "He would not be offended in anyway if you were to tell him what you do for a living. He would most likely be interested. You are a well-skilled warrior and so is he. Because of this and his descent he is one who certainly knows how to value another great warrior. Be it man or woman, dwarf or elf. Did you know that he was part of the Fellowship of the ring?"

"Yes I did," she replied. He had not expected that. If she knew, then why had she not just told Legolas that she was a Ranger like himself once? "Well, I just wanted you to know," with that he bid her goodnight and went to the doors. Then, just before he went through them, he turned and said: "I probably should not be saying this and Arwen... well, he is a dear friend of mine and if you'll play him, you'll find me on your way! Bain dû!". 

The door was shut firmly and the King of the West went on his way.

  
  


A/N: 13 September 2003: changing some errors in spelling.


	8. Dawn

Disclaimer: All you recognize is J.R.R. Tolkien's. What is mine starts where his claims end.

  
  


8. Dawn

  
  


It was just before sunrise and a new morning was about to break in Minas Tirith. The city was still sleeping when a horse and its rider silently past the eastern gate.

Not so much later Arwen met Legolas in the hallway. They were not surprised to see each other up already, as most elves tend to be up before dawn. Legolas had spent his night stargazing from the branch of the tree near the training field and later he finally had the training he promised himself. Afterwards he had been lying in a bath and now just came out of it. His hair was still wet and tangled. 

"Bain minuial, Arwen Undómiel" Legolas greeted her. "Bain minuial, mellon" [Fair dawn, friend]. They both looked out of a large window on one site of the hallway when the sun just touched the peak of Mindolluin. "Estel a glass an i arad" [Hope and joy for the day], they exchanged the common elven morning's greeting. "I'm going to the gardens and have breakfast there, would you please me with your company?" Arwen asked. "The pleasure would be all mine," Legolas answered. They started to stroll down the hallway. "You are happy here aren't you Undómiel?" Legolas stated. Arwen smiled: "So very happy. Up to this day, I had no regrets of my decision whatsoever, being with the love of my life." There was a short silence. Then he said: "Arwen... about Thûlocuil..." Arwen looked up and saw in his brown eyes love before it was love: "Yes..." I knew it! I just know elves, don't I? Not a coincidence, me talking of Aragorn, he of Thûlocuil, she thought.

"What about Thûlocuil Legolas?" That seemed to bring him back to earth again. For a moment he had been wondering why he got so interested in this she-elf. I've never been on a hunt, or in a battle or in her company for more than two hours. A short smile crossed his face. Although he would not dislike any of those three. "What... I mean where, when.... Well, last night I saw..." 

Legolas had a hard time making up a phrase because he was thinking at the same time: Why? And then in wonder: I'm not feeling lost anymore, for the first time in all these years. But I have been in Gondor before, what is so different this time? What happened? 

Arwen stopped because Legolas had done so. She was looking curiously at him: "You were saying?" Legolas focussed on Arwen again. "Yes, well, I thought maybe you could tell me..." Arwen saw his eyes become dreamy again and then widen as he gasped for breath. "Are you alright Legolas?" she asked concerned. His smile went on and on from one ear to another. Just a little bit more and his face will crack, she thought. "Never been better in eh... all my life actually" she could hear the surprise in his voice when uttering that last part of the sentence. "Feels like I could kill at least a dozen of orcs with one finger! Sorry, but I have to leave..." and with that he just jumped out of a window into a tree and was out of her sight in no time. 

  
  


"Ooooh, Elves!" Arwen let out frustrated and then laughed at herself. She definitely had grown more towards mankind than she thought. Surprised, a bit concerned and still softly laughing was how Aragorn found her. He pulled her backwards to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. "Estel a glass an i arad, nîn mîr (my jewel), although your day is already filled with joy I see" he said before kissing her neck. She chuckled (this time from his kiss). "And what has made my love so joyful this morning?" He just had to kiss her again. She turned in his embrace and said: "Elves in general and Legolas in particular." She kissed him now. "What about Legolas?", his thoughts went to the two conversations he had had last night. Arwen kissed his frowned forehead and said: "He just jumped out of the window." His mouth fell open but she just smiled at him and said: "Let's have breakfast my dearest since your mouth is already open."

  
  


Down in the garden Legolas was whistling, sitting on a branch which offered him a view of the city and the mountains behind it. He still felt the fire in his heart, pumping hot blood through all his veins. He knew why he no longer felt half now and never a morn had looked more beautiful to him.

  
  


A/N: 13 September 2003: changed some spelling.


	9. Meeting with the generals

Disclaimer: Imagination is something we do not own. It is free and awaits our visit. The world of Middle-Earth and all it contains is owned however and not by me. What would this world be without J.R.R. Tolkien? I do not want to know.

  
  


A/N: Everybody: thanks for all the kind reviews I got. I would like to especially thank The Black Ninja and Forest Elfin. Glad you guys like it!

9. Meeting with the generals.

  
  


Legolas was on the road again. This time on horseback, on a steed from Aragorn's stable. He was on his way to the capital of Ithilien. The messenger that came to Mirkwood, asked his father to send an envoy to a counsel of some very high and skilled generals, near the city of Minas Ithil. The subject of the meeting was the remaining foul creatures after the fall of Sauron. Since they still had trouble with orcs in Mirkwood, Thranduil was rather interested in this meeting and Legolas was sent. Aragorn had already sent some of his own generals, but was interested in a personal account of the meeting by Legolas. So Legolas would visit Minas Tirith once more on his return from the counsel and could return his horse.

  
  


Legolas left the morning of his conversation with Arwen. He passed the river Anduin and journeyed through Emyn Arnen, a range of hills in the central regions of Ithilien. After his coronation, Aragorn asked Faramir, son of Denethor II, Steward of Gondor and brother to Boromir, to rule Ithilien for him as his Steward. The land had been cleared from most of the dreadful creatures that lived there when Sauron reigned and Minas Morgul was re-renamed to Minas Ithil again. It was now a flourishing trade city. It also was the residence of Faramir as Prince of Ithilien and Lord of Emyn Arnen and his White Lady of Rohan, Éowyn, who he married after the War of the Rings.

  
  


Some fifteen miles from Minas Ithil there was a large army camp, where the meeting would take place. Legolas stated his name, title and business at the entrance and was let to the middle of the camp. There was a tent with the flags of Ithilien, Gondor and Rohan in front of it. Two guards were standing at the entrance. The soldier who had accompanied him had a quick word with one of them. The guard directed them to a nearby smaller tent. The soldier went in and came out again with a man clothed in the war-uniform of the Rohirrim.

"Greetings Prince Legolas of Greenwood the Great" the man bowed and then continued:

"I'm lieutenant Aldor I'm one of the éored [one hundred and twenty riders that formed the main military division of the people of Rohan] and at this moment responsible for the course of the meetings. I'm at your service Your Highness Prince Legolas of Greenwood the Great. I suppose that Your Highness wants to speak with the generals?" Legolas confirmed that he was the envoy from his father. The man continued: "Well, I'm sorry to inform Your Highness that the generals are in a conversation at this moment with another highly esteemed visitor and I do have specific orders not to let anyone disturb this conversation." "Well, I'll just wait then," with that, Legolas let himself down on a wooden bench by a table outside the tent. "Can I get you anything to eat perhaps, sir, it might take a while before they can receive you" "Yes, I would appreciate some bread and soup or so"

The lieutenant beckoned a soldier to go and fetch the food. 

"Would you like me to let somebody take care of your horse, while you wait here sir?" "Yes, please, I would, again, appreciate that" Another soldier was beckoned and after Legolas had taken some letters from his father out of his bags, the horse was let away. "If you do not mind sir, I have some work to do..." "No, by all means, please continue your work" Legolas answered. The lieutenant returned to his tent. Soon the bread and some thick soup arrived and Legolas started to eat.

  
  


He could hear some noises coming from the big tent. It sounded more like a quarrel then a conversation. The generals appeared to disagree completely. Now and then there was the voice of a more sensible one, trying to calm the others down and make them listen to each other. Finally, Legolas had finished his meal almost an hour ago, this voice was heard saying rather loud: "Well if you are finished fighting amongst each other and have reached an agreement: I'll be on the training field practicing. Don't take too much time though, time is still on our site, but I do not know for how long."

  
  


First there was a shocked silence and then he could hear someone say: "We should pay attention; this is our most valuable source." And another one: "Never has there been a more valuable scout and insider..." But others disagreed and soon the quarrelling started again. Legolas was curious to see who would leave the tent, but nobody came out. Maybe this tent had two entries? It was a good opportunity to stretch his legs, so he got up and went around the big tent. He had been right. There was another, smaller, entrance, again with two guards beside it. He completed his little stroll and approached one of the guards at the main entrance. 

  
  


"Excuse me, but can you tell me when the generals will be ready to receive another visitor?" "I'm sorry sir, I don't know" the man replied to his question. "However," he continued, "this has been going on for a week already and they are not to be disturbed. The arrival this morning of the esteemed guest was hoped to bring a chance, but as you've heard..." "I see..." Legolas said, and then imitating the voice they had all heard: "Well, if they are finished fighting amongst each other and have reached an agreement: I'll be on the training field practicing. Let them not take too much time though... for I'll get less- mannered in time!" Both guards laughed. "Good idea sir, you'll find the training field about three rows of tents from the other exit of this tent!"

  
  


A/N: 22 feb 2003: just replacing this chapter because of some minor not-so-well paragraph endings.

13 September 2003: the last(?) spelling errors are gone now??????


	10. I do not want to think

Disclaimer: I do not own Middle-Earth or any of the wonderful beings that J.R.R. Tolkien invented that roam it. It makes me sad sometimes. But the fact that he put his imagination down in words makes me thankful.

  
  


10. I do not want to think...

  
  


Legolas first went to see lieutenant Aldor to tell him where he could find him and to ask where his horse had been taken. Then he went to see the steed and was glad to see it was taken well care of. He retrieved his bow and arrows and made his way to the training field. The field was simply a place where no tents were. It used to be a grassy field, and some grass was still there, but most of it was ripped away by training soldiers.

  
  


Three soldiers were on the field. Two had just finished practising and were gathering their weapons. By the look on their exhausted faces, they probably did not come from the meeting. The other figure was doing some sword swaying at the far side of the field. The sword exercise figures where preformed at such a speed that this soldier was probably an elf, and probably more then just a soldier. The speed also matched the rate of irritating he had heard from the voice. Suddenly the speed dropped and the figures where repeated in slow-motion. Legolas recognized them in an instant: these had left a lasting impression. He felt his blood rush trough his veins: it was her!

  
  


I definitely want to match her, but how? She probably won't match me when she recognizes me. He looked around; this being a camp full of soldiers, there should be some kind of helmet he could wear. He went over and searched the racks that were on the border of the field. They contained armour and weaponry people had forgotten after their training session or did not want anymore. To his luck Legolas found a helm with integral protection for the cheeks, face and back of the neck. This would do, most of his face would be covered. He quickly braided his long hair in two small plaits that hung from his temples and tied the rest of his hair with a piece of leather into a firm bun that would be easily covered by the neckplate of the helm. Then he entered the training field and walked over to her. 

  
  


She was wearing black silk pants, knee-high boots, and a maple-red undershirt, with long sleeves and over it she wore a sleeveless leather tunic like a soldier from Gondor. Her brown hair was in a long braid that swayed when she suddenly turned towards him, her sword drawn back and ready to thrust. She looked him up and down. She lowered her sword. Silence.

  
  


"Would you..." they both started. They both smiled. Then they both gestured to the other to talk. They smiled again. This time they both pointed at each other. Legolas kept pointing, so finally she said: "Would you like a match?" He nodded. "You saw me practising?" she asked. He nodded again, afraid that she might recognize his voice. 

And why would she have memorised your voice, you fool? He asked himself in his mind. She walked to a piece of cloth that hung on the fencing and wiped her face. "Since ultimately I was the one who asked, you can choose the weapon" she said, facing him again. She doesn't have the slightest idea, or she is hiding her surprise very well, he thought. He found the sight in front of him much more appealing then the dressed up elf-maiden he met at dinner. Her brown eyes where darker then he remembered. Maybe the candle light at dinner played a part in that, or they now resembled the irritation she had expressed to the generals or maybe it was excitement from the oncoming match. With him! He felt his blood grow hot again. "It would be nice, if you choose them this day..." Lost dôl [empty head, like in chap. 6 A/N] he scolded himself in silence, here they were, this was his change to fight with this magnificent warrior, magnificent in more then one way, and he was just merely gaping at her. 

"Long knives, if that's o.k. with you" This time she nodded, put her sword against the fence and pulled two long knives from her belt. 

They fought. He was in advantage on strength but she was in speed. She was impressed by his movements, there was none without reason. He was impressed by the seemingly easiness of her fighting. Finally, they got tired and after one last encounter they stopped, facing each other, standing two passes apart from one another. They both slightly bend and put their hands on their knees. They looked at each other and breathed. Silence again.

  
  


"Tell me what you are going to say, so I can say it too" Legolas said. She laughed. "Let's yield simultaneously", she suggested. She walked to the cloth on the fence, whipped her face again and sat on the fence. Legolas also went to the fence and sat beside her. "You are a skilled fighter," she said. "And so are you" he returned the compliment. "It's probably why you are here" she stated. No names, no questions why he did not take his helm off, she probably wanted to keep a lot back herself, Legolas thought. But maybe by telling her the goal of his visit, she would reveal something about herself. "I'm an envoy for my king, actually," he said. Her voice was sharp when she instantly returned: "And you'll tell him what they said and he'll tell you his answer and you'll have to come back again and then they'll tell you something else and you'll report that to your king and we'll all be here to celebrate mid-summer next year! Kings and generals, they do take their time, don't they? Men!" He felt like he should at least defend Aragorn and his father. "Well," he started and then thought up a nice little trick question: "If you think this low about kings, generals and men in general, what is, according to you, the role of their partners?" So now you answer that one, milady, he thought. 

But she did not even hesitate and fired the question back at him: "Well, what do you think is the role of their partners?" Silence again. Then Legolas said: "I do not want to think milady, I want to know," and with that he removed his helm.

  
  


A/N: Surprise!!!

If you would like to know how she reacts, please review. Next chapter will bring them back to the meeting and she'll meet Gimli.

He's so in love, head over heals!

  
  


13 September 2003: just changed some sentences.


	11. About the unwise

11. Disclaimer: Imagination... it is the beginning of all things, some beautiful, some awful, some hated, some celebrated. Just don't imagine that this is all mine, most of it belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.  
  


A/N: Thank you all for your sweet reviews! It is so nice to get up, turn on my computer and find out that you have read my story and like it! Thank you, everybody.

I specially want to thank Kalenniphredil. It really was some kind of honour to get your review, since I really love your stories. Thank you so much! Hope you enjoy the rest of this as much as I enjoy your stories.  
  


11. About the unwise...

Thûlocuil felt her heart miss a beat when Legolas took off his helm. Their eyes locked. 

For a moment she was pleased with the fact that it was him. She had felt admiration for this warrior during their fight and easiness in their short talk; somehow she was glad that it was him who these feelings applied to. 

But then she realized: this was the elf she promised herself to beware of! Well she had done a nice job so far! 

What now? O.K. she told herself, don't panic. How much does he know and what lacunas can he fill in by combining one and one?

"I..." she began, but was cut off by the sound of someone clearing his throat. Both elves jerked their head to the source of the sound. It was lieutenant Aldor.  
  


"I beg you pardon, Your Highness, Master Warrior," he nodded first at Legolas, then at Thûlocuil, and continued to her: "the generals would like to continue their meeting with you milady..." 

She had not even heard him coming towards them! This was not a good sign, she was an elf, even when having a conversation, which they had not just now, she should have heard him some fifty feet away! How...then a smile crept over her face: neither had he! 

She jumped off the fence and seized her sword. "Well, let's not waste their precious time, shall we?" And with that she started towards the big tent, leaving the elf and man to follow.  
  


By the time she reached the conference-tent Legolas and Aldor had caught up with her. Thûlocuil hold her pace for a moment and managed to get Aldor between her and Legolas. She did not cast a glance at him and kept looking straight ahead, she would deal with him when she had dealt with the generals. 

They had just come round to the entrance when, with a lot of shouts: "Make way for my lord!" a group of about thirty or more men approached on horseback. Five or six jumped of their horse and went to a man that was riding a tall, proud horse. The tack was a deep-royal-red with silver accents that shone in the sunlight.   
  
One man approached Aldor and asked where they could pitch the tents of the company. 

"My Lord needs space for some forty tents, and does not want any of the common soldiers to come near his tents, so a place far away from the places where they eat, train, work and sleep is necessary. Further, my Lord does not want to walk or ride to far when he wants to meet with the other generals so it should be a place near the center of the camp." Aldor and he were soon involved in a discussion of suitable terrain. The lord and master the man had been talking about had dismounted in the meantime. He walked towards the entrance of the tent. When he passed them, Aldor addressed him:

"My Lord, on behalf of the generals I welcome you. I am..."

The man cut in with a condescending look on his face; "Yes, yes, I do not have the time to listen to you, tell me: where is this 'important' visitor with his 'vital' information?"

Aldor coughed and said "Actually Sir, right beside me." 

"Oh, well, nice to meet you," the man said to Legolas, "I am here, what are you waiting for then? Let's go!" and he went into the tent, followed by some servants and two muscular men.

Legolas looked inquiring at Thûlocuil. Aldor looked startled at her. Thûlocuil just looked from the elf to the man and grinned. 

"Well, I am here too, what are you waiting for then? Let's go!" she imitated the tone of the other man. Legolas saw a roguish look in her brown eyes as she gestured to the entrance. 

Oh, faeg guren, ú garnon ú and, [Oh, my poor heart, I (do) not own (you) no longer] he thought on entering the tent.

Thûlocuil said "Do not worry Aldor." and followed Legolas inside.  
  


Although the tent was big, it was getting crowded inside. There were twelve generals and the thirteenth had just arrived, bringing with him about six men. In the middle there was a round table, around which where twelve chairs. From these the twelve generals rose when the thirteenth came in.

"Welcome Ragnor, thank you for joining us. This is an issue for all man. I've already sent for the warrior I wrote you about when we heard you had arrived at the gate." One of his servants got a spare chair that was placed against the canvas and Ragnor sat down. 

"Ah, I see, you are already here Master Warrior," the general who spoke continued to Thûlocuil. "Ragnor may I introduce you to..."

But Ragnor interrupted him: "Yes, yes, I already met this elf outside, let's get on with it..." obvious reluctantly he got out of his chair and offered his hand to Legolas. But Legolas shook his head, stepped aside, thus revealing Thûlocuil and nodded to her. The man frowned and started: "What?" 

The general who had been speaking to him was looking to Thûlocuil and missed the whole thing. He just finished his introductions: "Master Warrior, this is general Ragnor," then he turned to Ragnor. The man was standing staring at Thûlocuil.

"What... what is this nonsense! I already noted that he was an elf, but this is a she-elf!" He had been annoyed by the fact that the important visitor turned out to be an elf, but a she-elf! This turned his annoyance into rage. He declined Thûlocuils hand, turned and sat down again. 

He looked at Thûlocuil, sighed and said: "I do not talk to women about important things, you are dismissed."

Legolas's eyes opened wide with astonishment. The hush-hush in the tent died out immediately. Everybody looked at Ragnor, who gestured one of his servants for a drink. Legolas turned his gaze to Thûlocuil, too late to see the fast smile that had crossed her face, now she was fidgeting on her cuffs, her face was calm. After an uncomfortable silence, the other generals broke out: "But she is our most valuable source... She has some important information... She can tell us where the enemy... You have to... Please listen..." They tried to make general Ragnor review his position. 

Ragnor took a draft from his drink, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and raised his voice: "As I said before: I do not talk to women on any matter of importance, make yourself scares woman!" 

At this point Thûlocuil raised her head and looked at him. Then she looked around the circle of generals and with just a gesture and a nod freed three chairs, for her to sit on. 

Legolas was surprised. He had got an idea of her skills out on the field, and both Arnor and the other general referred to her as 'Master Warrior'. But to see three highly placed generals leave their seats just like that! She obvious was greatly respected. She chose a chair opposite of Ragnor, leant on the hilt of her sword and looked at the man opposite her. Then she said in a clear voice: "I do not talk to unwise people about important things, you are dismissed!" 

Everybody caught their breath. Ragnor starred at her, slowly turning from red to purple. Then he beckoned a servant: 

"Help this creature out of the tent." The servant walked towards Thûlocuil. She unsheathed her sword only a little bit. 

"I do not have any problems with your presence" she said to the servant. And then to Ragnor: "As I said before: I do not talk to unwise people on any matter of importance, make yourself scares!" Ragnor was now looking like he was going to explode. 

One of his tougher servants answered her: "You've offended my master in a severe way: get out of here!" 

Thûlocuil sat back in her chair and said: "I have said exactly that to him, what he has said to me." She turned once more to Ragnor meeting pure hate from his eyes: "I could easily repeat the words of your servant sir, but I won't. Let's talk like sensible people. Terror is rising in Udûn, let's all use our skills to prevent another Ringwar."

Legolas tilted his head at her words. Ragnor however, did not have any intention of giving in. He signalled his servant again. But before the servant could move, Legolas stepped forward: "Stop! All of you!" 

Ragnor sighed: "And who may you be elf?" 

"I am Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, in darker times once called Mirkwood." Rumour filled the room: Legolas, part of the fellowship once. 

"And I want to know exactly what is going on." He turned a piercing gaze to Thûlocuil and raised his voice: "What is this about a new Ringwar? The One Ring was destroyed, I am sure of that!"  
  


With that a roar came from outside, the sound of a brief struggle was heard and a small but stout figure burst into the tent, shouting: "As am I, Master Elf, as am I". 

"Gimli!" Legolas exclaimed.  
  


A/N: Karone: thank you for your hints. I do have a problem though: when I save my story from wpdoc to html format (to upload it to ff), every hard return turns into a new paragraph!

  
  


29-03-03: changed my choice of words.

13-09-03: changed some spelling errors. 


	12. Food for thought

Disclaimer: I own Thûlocuil (and owning her is a lot of fun!) The rest is owned by J.R.R. Tolkien.

  
  


Review of reviews: at the end. 

Warning: there are somewhat filthy thoughts in this chapter. Don't like it? Don't read it. I think this is as 'erotic' as this story will ever get.

  
  


12. Food for thought.

  
  


Night had fallen. Although everywhere in the camp fires and torches had been lit, to Legolas, the world looked darker than it had looked for some time. Although he was sitting in the middle of some hundred soldiers eating, drinking, jesting, boasting, yelling and singing, it seemed more silent than it had been for some time. And even surrounded by all these man and with Gimli sitting just opposite him eating and drinking, he felt lonely, lonelier than he had felt for some time. 

She had left.

  
  


After Gimli had burst in, he had tried to get any information from her. But Ragnor had made it very clear that he thought a meeting with elves, and a she-elf for that matter, was not up to his standards, was indeed a joke. He asked every general who agreed, to come with him. Not one stood up from his seat. "So you all choose her site then?" he had asked and then had looked at Thûlocuil and hissed: "I will get my revenge woman, don't you worry about that!" with that he left the tent. 

In the silence after his leaving, Thûlocuil got up and said: "Maybe I was a fool to think that the people of Middle Earth could work together once more to smother evil while we still have the change. But now it seems like not even one people can agree on a simple thing as to hear information from another. I leave now. If you need me, I'll be watching my enemy."

She had left.

  
  


He had run after her and grabbed her by the shoulder as she was walking away. She turned like she had been stabbed. Her brown eyes were narrow and blazing; her gaze was like ice when she saw it was him. "I'm sorry that I raised my voice to you," he said, "but you must understand: I've lost friends over this, both in life and spirit." 

She briefly shut her eyes and seemed to brace herself. For a moment it looked like she was going to say something to him but then she just turned and started to walk again. 

"You leaving will not help matters." He had called after her. She just continued and he stared at her back for a moment, before turning from her. 

"Nîn nauth avar tegi mellyn nad, h'ava úcaron în morgul, Im hebin cuiol nîn cuil a faron an râd alaphad."

["My thought(s) will not bring your friends anything, it will not undo his evil sorcery, I keep living my life and hunt for (a) path that does not follow (= that is different)."]

He swirled around on her very first word. They were some fifteen passes apart; she was facing him again and merely whispering. A tear rolled down her cheek and with a brusque gesture she wiped it off. 

Then she turned again and left.

  
  


"Look out! There's an orc trying to cut one of your golden tresses!" Legolas leaped at Gimli's sudden outburst. Only to see no other foul creature then the one sitting opposite him and laughing his brains out! 

"Do not bend too much in your mirth my friend, least you want to eat some delicious beard-broth" Legolas replied on sitting down again. That made Gimli instantly stop laughing and quickly grab at his beard. "Still gloomy from the fact that she would not tell you a thing, are you Legolas? I just wanted your attention my friend, since I have been talking to you for some time now without even a 'hum' for an answer...", Gimli said. "I suppose you did not overhear the conversation those soldiers next to us were having just before they left to fetch some more 'delicious beard-broth'?" Legolas just looked utterly disinterested. "Yep, just as I thought! Well, before you go dreaming off again... they were just talking about this 'Great Warrior'. Uhuh, thought that would rouse your interest. Now listen..." Gimli continued to the now completely alert Legolas: "They are just rumours, remember that, so do not get all worked up about this but..." as he lowered his voice to continue, the two empty places beside them were once again taken and Gimli hushed. A meaningful nod from him told Legolas that these were the two soldiers in question. 

  
  


"No, no, no! I tell you, I know one of Ragnor's company, he is a friend of mine and he, Bregon, was on duty guarding his Lord's tent this afternoon, I got this first-hand! He just went mad about the visitor being a woman, Ragnor that is, well, and Bregon says that the general said something about 'filthy elves'. And have you ever seen him, that is her, yielding a sword? That speed is not human I say to you, although...maybe it is not elvish either..." here his voice dropped and he looked around. 

  
  


Yet, he only saw two other soldiers completely absorbed in a game of cards and to his other side two strange men discussing something that one of them was holding. They were foreign looking though. That little one might be a dwarf and the other, well his ears were invisible since all the hair covered them, but his garments sure had an elvish appearance. He moved a bit away from them on the bench and continued.

  
  


Legolas and Gimli were frantically staring at the tip of Gimli's beard. That had been the closed things within Legolas's grasp when he had seen the movement of the man's head. It surely was something that took Gimli's attention immediately away from the two soldiers. "They are continuing again," Legolas whispered. "Well, in that case, get your hand off my property!" Gimli muffled. "Hush!" Legolas said, and after a friendly tug, let the dwarf's beard go free again. With his hearing he could still easily pick up what their table companion was saying to his friend.

  
  


"... She is powered by the black land!"

"No!" on the face of the second soldier was an expression of expecting disbelieve. "Such a lovely face, you would not say..."

"Well, hey..." at this the first one winked meaningful to his companion, "you do not expect the Lord of the Nazgûl to go all that time without you-know-what!"

Legolas clenched his fists. "No!" again the same encouraging disbelieve was heard in the voice of the second one. 

"Or, hey, hey... for that matter Sauron himself, hey, hey!" The name of the Black Lord was spoken so soft, that even Legolas could barely hear it.

  
  


"Only rumours... Legolas, only rumours..."Gimli, not being able to hear the two anymore, could clearly read the expression on Legolas's face. "Here, take a good look at the tip of my beard again, that should put things in perspective!" and he took the tip of his beard between his short fingers and moved it like it was waving to Legolas.

Legolas relaxed, "You would not believe your ears, Gimli..."

  
  


But this last statement went too far, even for the 'fine' audience of the story-teller. His voice was more determent on his next "No! I mean, you can have friends with interesting work, but you really had too much to drink if you can say such a filthy thing!"

"Calm down, calm down, just jesting... Hey, but I did hear stories about her that point that way..."

"No, no, I just don't know what to believe anymore..." but his voice was encouraging enough for the first one to continue.

"Well, how do you suppose that she comes to all this detailed information then, hey? You think the little fairies of the trees tell them to her at night?"

"Well, you surely must have heard those stories about elves and trees," the other cut in again.

"Well, I daresay that if those trees would speak in the Black Tongue she would be able to understand them!"

"No! You don't say..."

"Yes, I do, and this comes straight from Ragnor's lips..."

"Yeah, but through Bregor's ears and your lips again" the second one cut in once more.

"Now, do you want to hear this or am I ruining your hot dreams for tonight?" the first one sneered. 

"Hey! Don't tell me that you do not..." the other was actually sounding assaulted this time! Talking about 'filthy elves' now, are they, Legolas thought.

  
  


"Right! Just tell me what you think about this: she is the only source our generals have concerning the terror in Udûn, she gets in and out of Mordor more easy than you and I get in and out of this camp, she is the only one with detailed information about how many orcs and where they are heading... now how would she, being an elf and a woman, get this information, hey? Now, what do you say now, hey, hey?"

  
  


And there goes the whole purpose of gathering for secret meetings, Legolas thought. From now on I should ask the next soldier how the Elves of Eryn Lasgalen should react when it comes to a New Ringwar! He smiled. Hear, hear, she has even got Thranduil's son thinking like this! Now there is a great story! he stopped thinking for a moment... Now is there? He felt a warmth flowing from his heart to his neck and face. Gimli, thinking that he had heard something disgusting again, once again waved the tip of his beard at him. "Just think of my beard Legolas, the beard!" 

  
  


"Now I say, that you definitely had had too much to drink, my friend. And that I'm going to get some sleep before we're on duty again."

"Well, I tell you she's suspicious and probably a turncoat or a spy! I know on what side she fought in the last war!" But his companion gathered his dishes and disappeared towards the camp-scullery: a big barrel full of water and dishes. 

  
  


"Sweet dreams!!!!" the first one yelled after him. Then he too stood up and gathered his stuff. He noticed that the elf-like creature to his left was covering his face with his hands. Whatever this dwarf was showing him was obviously not becoming him. Or he had trouble with the good healthy soldier's food. He let out a 'humpf': Elves! Mighty warriors with a weak stomach!

And with that thought, he turned and left.

  
  


As promised:

Red Cinders: you're thinking just along my line of thoughts: I like so much what Miranda Otto said in the Making of: "It is always nice when a female gets to kick ***!"

Lady Aniviel: thank you for your kind review and for your comments on the age-thing.

TheBlackNinja: Thank you for your reviews, you should keep reading, I think you'll like it!

  
  


So this was the next chapter, for all you reviewers: I hold you so dear, since you really make my day. Please keep reviewing: I always get the feeling like I won't be able to write one word, just before I start writing again. It's awful! So thanks to you all! (Elven beauty, Forest Elfin.)

To Cruiser: I do not like to give it all away, that would spoil the fun, I think.

  
  


Only to translate her sentence into Sindarin took me about three hours! In my much extended source there is no translation for words like 'can', 'undo', 'evil', 'search'. That makes it difficult.

  
  


29-03-03: changed my choice of words.

13-09-03: improved some spelling.


	13. Of slow thinking elves and wise dwarves

13. I claim being a fan of J.R.R. Tolkien, Legolas (of course), Aragorn and Thûlocuil (for that matter). I claim this story to be my own. However, I do not claim to own all that is in it, it was inspired by the films of Peter Jackson and 'The Lord of the Rings' by Tolkien. I only wish to entertain myself and others with this story. I do not have any intention of making money with this story. I do have the intention of someday making money writing. 

After this rather long claimer/disclaimer: let's hunt some orcs!

  
  


13 Of slow thinking elves and wise dwarfs.

  
  


Since Legolas lost his believe in a quick decision by the generals, he and Gimli left the next morning on horseback. They were riding together like so many times in the past, on the steed that Aragorn had lent him. In the early light they travelled through Ithilien, heading for the old bridge of Osgiliath. Gimli hummed some road song under his beard, like the ones the hobbits used to sing during their quest together. Legolas sat just pensively, his body moving in phase with the movements of the horse beneath him. 

  
  


He had a lot to think about. These last few days had been a string of emotions and new, highly alarming information. He was in doubt: should he return to Minas Tirith, as planned or find the quickest way to his father's realm. Going via Minas Tirith meant to lose time. And time was still on their side (that is what she had said), but for how long? 

Going to his father's realm at once would spare time, but Aragorn wanted to know his friend's findings, and Legolas did not like to let him down.

On the other hand, his father could summon any elves for military duty at any time, no matter what the generals' decisions would be. 

Although a lot of elves already left Middle Earth, the elves of Eryn Lasgalen did not leave in the same amount as the elves of Rivendell or Lothlórien. This probably was due to the fact that both Galadriel (with Celeborn) and Elrond had left where as Thranduil had stayed. The renewed peace in Eryn Lasgalen also had a hand in it; other Elvenrealms had known peace before the War of the Ring, Eryn Lasgalen had only become to know peace again after, by and through it. There were still more than enough elves to gather a regiment of Elfwarriors: and those were still the fearless, skilful and efficient assassins they had ever been. He had to make up his mind! 

  
  


What do I really want? I want to see whether this talk about a new Ringwar is true, that's the bottom line, Legolas thought.

Was it? Was he being honest, or was there another reason he wanted to go to Udûn as soon as possible? What about Thûlocuil? He sat up in his horse's saddle, and shrugged his shoulders.

Yes, what about her? He was attracted to her, although he did not know her as good as he wanted to. And that's the crux! I do not want to think about her, I want to know about her. To know more, to know all there is to know! Somehow this elf touched me in a way no one has ever before... 

Yuk! I'm starting to sound like a pubertal elf in love! A broad grin crept up his face. Yeah! That's mainly it: I'm in love. The grin became grim: and I am acting like a thirty year old pubertal fool about it. So, let's tackle this problem then, I'm not a thirty year old adolescent, I'm a 2953 year old assassin. I could take somebody out without even thinking about it; and so I've done. Maybe I should get back to that as soon as possible and handle this all like a 2953 year old elf, Prince, assassin, Member of The Fellowship! Now let me think, that person would probably...

  
  


Travel to Udûn as soon as possible and take care of business! All the business, orcs and she-elves alike. She had said that there was a change of smothering evil and he was a skilled elfwarrior with a unique experience regarding orcs, battles, Ringwars, she-warriors...

Now how did that last item became a part of this list?

  
  


When they came to a grassy hilltop Legolas said to the steed: "Daro! Daro roch-mellon!" [Halt! Halt horse-friend]. He turned to Gimli: "We will rest here for a moment," "Good! I'm getting a bit stiff here," the dwarf answered. They both dismounted and Legolas told the steed to find some food, but not to wander too far. Gimli was walking about a bit, stretching himself by waving his arms about and bending his back to and fro. "If you take a good run, jump into the air and keep waving your arms like that, you just may be able to continue this trip flying like a bird, my friend, thus keeping clear of any stiffness!" Legolas said with a laugh in his voice. The dwarf stopped his moving immediately and slowly turned to eye his friend. "You just might have the pleasure of flying yourself if you keep up this dump humour, my friend!" This only caused Legolas to laugh and soon Gimli joined him. "Well, well, I must say, master-elf, I'm glad that you are still capable of laughing. I had given up all hope for any joy for this day since sunrise" Gimli said as a variation to the common elven morning's greeting. "I have done some thinking," Legolas defence came. 

  
  


"Some? Some? The sun is up for at least seven hours and you have done SOME thinking?" Gimli's voice was dripping with sarcastic disbelief. "Let ME think, just for a second now, this dwarf will show you how a mortal, with no eternity to spend, thinks. Aaaaah, it's getting clear already: are we to go to Minas Tirith or are we to follow a certain she-elf to MORDOR? Well, this IS a huge problem. Let me think again... No, don't interfere with my ALMIGHTY thinking," he stopped Legolas on seeing him wanting to react. "THIS will only take a second! Save and sound Minas Tirith over who-knows-what-we-will-find in MORDOR? I'll spell it out for you, since I do not expect you to think as fast as any mortal, let alone a dwarf! No, you just listen, elf!" 

He prevented Legolas from cutting in once more. "Well the wise thing to do would of course be to go to Minas Tirith, and elves are the wise ones, are they, or so they say... And you are an elf, now aren't you... So, it is this simple: Let's hurry and go directly to Udûn!" He looked at Legolas with a serious look on his face; that he could only hold for about three seconds. Then he broke out in laughter again. "I'm sorry Legolas; it is just that you look so sweet and worried over this she-elf. Learn from a dwarf this: she either likes you or not, and the quickest way to know is to ask her! Don't look like I'm telling you to eat orcdung! Take by heart an advice from an old dwarf, I do have experience in this field you know!" he paused for a moment, looking at Legolas's face: "This time you look like you've already eaten the dung!" and that made him burst out in laughter again. Legolas wisely turned from the laughing dwarf. He went towards some blackberry-shrubs that were surrounding part of the hill. 

  
  


After a short while he called out to the dwarf: "Gimli! Are you still laughing?" "Why?" came the answer, but from the tone of his voice it was clear that Gimli was on the brink of bursting into a fit again. 

"Well, then I could just throw some blackberries in your open mouth and make you listen to me for a while!" with that Legolas appeared again. "I'll try and stop laughing at you master-elf, but just in case, let me have my share of that!" Legolas handed Gimli a good hand-full of the delicious fruit. "Alright, now talk!" Gimli ordered, between two blackberries going down his throat.

"Alright, now listen!" Legolas shot back in the same tone. "I was not thinking of just the two of us going into Udûn, not even of going in there alone. When what she says is true, and war is looming, you and I, as stout and brave as you dwarves are, are of no use. I was thinking of going directly to my father and come back with a regiment of our warriors. But on the other hand, I did promise Aragorn to tell him what I thought of the meeting. Hence... my problems that needed SOME thinking!" he finished waiting for Gimli to speak. But the dwarf remained silent. "You are not going to say something extremely witty about this now master-dwarf? O, I know, you're going right into a fit just without any clever remarks!" 

First Gimli remained silent, then he swallowed and said: "I was just merely eating my last blackberry but if you're sure you have said everything..." "I have, dear friend, I have," came Legolas's answer.

"Well, without further hesitation or any smart remarks, for that part, let me tell you, that the solution to your problems is right in front of you!" He continued when Legolas only raised his brows: "What if you ride, as fast as you can, to your father's Kingdom and do as you say, and I ride to Minas Tirith and tell Aragorn what we've learned? I might even try to get some of his man to join me and we'll meet again in... well, let's meet at the Morn Dant.* The first one to reach that will send scouts into Udûn."

This time it was Legolas who was laughing: "You're wise Gimli. That must have something to do with your long friendship with elves!" He only got a pointed look for an answer and continued more seriously: "But I do feel thankful for that friendship. You're plan is good and clear. Let's ride!"

But Gimli protested: "Now, now, hold your horses; you're acting like a dwarfling, yes, just like one that has not come of age yet! Think before you act my dear elf! What about the generals? You think your father or Aragorn will surpass the generals just like that? And what kind of help or action must and can we provide? Where? How? When? No, my eager friend, there is still some thinking to be done!"

But Legolas mind was set: "If they sent us to scout into Udûn and another one with an answer from them back to the generals they will have the advantage of shooting two arrows with one bow**, no your plan is fine Gimli!" and with that he whistled for their horse.

  
  


At an inn in Osgiliath Gimli got a pony and Legolas found a horse that was originally from his father's stable so he left his steed to be taken to Minas Tirith by the next man that was going that way, as was common in Middle Earth. In the town square they said their goodbyes. Gimli would ride west to Minas Thirith, Legolas would follow the east banks of the Anduin and head straight for Eryn Lasgalen. 

Gimli said to him: "You'll send a messenger to the Lonely Mountain then, to inform my father. And I'll expect you to arrive at the Morn Dant within a month. However, the first one to arrive will send out scouts into Udûn, towards the other and, if necessary, a messenger to Minas Ithil." Legolas answered: "Yes, and just maybe, maybe if we find her she will tell another elf what she knows." he turned his horse: "Well, I wish your road to be fair and swift my friend: Bain men!" and with that he urged his horse to start. 

"Bain men, Legolas!" Gimli shouted after him, and on kicking his own horse into action continued to himself: "and just maybe, maybe if we find her a certain elf will tell her something yet!" and laughing he started his journey to Minas Tirith.

Bain men=fair road.

  
  


A/N:* I suppose they renamed the place where the Black Gate stood. So I named it: Black Fall (since 'ruin' was not in my sindarin dictionary).

** Since there is no English equivalent to the Dutch pronoun: 'Twee vliegen in één klap slaan'; I made up this elvish proverb. It means: to have two things done in one action.

  
  


13 September 2003: changing some spelling errors.


	14. Emyn Muil

14. I do not claim anything that is claimed by J.R.R. Tolkien or Peter Jackson. 

As short as a hobbit, this one... 

  
  


Review of reviews: down below.

  
  


Emyn Muil

  
  


"Dago han! Dago han, Legolas! Dago han!" [Bring him down!]* from the branch he was standing on, Legolas could see his lieutenant running for his life. He fired three arrows at the first Uruk-hai in pursuit, jumping down after Rovalhon passed under his feet, unleashing in mid-air his two long-knifes, thus cutting up the second Uruk-hai. The Uruk-hai fell towards Legolas, since he had been moving at full speed forward. The third Uruk-hai helped his dead fellow by giving him a heavy push. Legolas had not been firm on his feet yet when he slew the second Uruk-hai and was not able to push the corpse back, since his hands were holding his knives. He fell back, with the dead Uruk-hai covering his body. This gave the third Uruk-hai an advantage: it was just bringing its hooked sword down when suddenly something hindered his motion and he came crushing down altogether. With an exertion Legolas pulled both his arms free from under the dead Uruk-hai, putting them round the corpse as in an embrace and thus piercing the third one with his long knives. The next moment Rovalhon was pulling the Uruk-hai of his captain. He had made a turn the moment Legolas jumped down, thus coming behind the two Uruk-hai. He had pulled one of Legolas's arrows from the first Uruk-hai and shot the third in his back, just as the foul creature was about to bring the sword down. They both pulled themselves up onto the nearest branch and climbed further into the tree. On a branch some eight feet from the ground they stopped and looked into the direction where Rovalhon had come from.

"Úharn?" Rovalhon panted. "Úharn! A harnach?" Legolas asked. After a deep breath Rovalhon answered: "Uharn! Deleb glamhoth!" [Ro: Not harmed? Le: Not harmed! And you not harmed? Ro: Not harmed! Disgusting host of orcs!] "Pedo!"[Speak! (Tell!)] Legolas demanded. Rovalhon had his breathing under control again and continued: "Seventy or more and they are on the move!" "In which direction are they going?" asked Legolas. 

"Towards us!" was the answer. Legolas did not waste another moment: "Fast! We have to tell the others". Quickly they went back to the others, travelling through the trees.

  
  


Legolas was on his way to the Morn Dant** and with him twenty elvenwarriors. It had been no problem getting any. The elves of Eryn Lasgalen had been very proud of their Prince, playing a part in the downfall of Sauron. The only thing they did not like, was the idea that no other elf had fought in the last Ringwar. And so king Thranduil had to choose from several volunteers. 

  
  


Yes, Legolas was on his way, yet his company did not make great progress. In the southern parts of Eryn Lasgalen they encountered their first orcs. It had been a small group and together with the elves of East Lórien, that dwelt there now*** they had had no trouble overcoming them. Since then they had been meeting groups of orcs of different species. Some were of the old orc-races that would not travel by day, some of the more new ones, 'invented' by Saruman, like the Uruk-hai. First the groups were small and they were met days apart. However, the further they had come into the hills of the Emyn Muil the larger the groups and the more often their encounters became. And now Rovalhon had found some seventy of the filthy creatures. This was the largest number as yet. 

  
  


The two elves had been scouting the terrain towards Nen Hithoel and Rovalhon had wandered from his captain following a deer. In hot pursuit he had literally stumbled over the three Uruks. One had come at him with a knife, before he was on his feet again. Luckily the knife caught the straps of his quiver and not his neck that it was aimed at. So only armed with his bow, he had to run for it. While fleeing along the edge of a steep valley he had the questionable benefit of seeing the band of orcs.

  
  


"Maetham! Maetham! Glamhoth padar an men!" [We fight! We fight! Host of orcs walks towards us!]. Alarmed by Rovalhon's call every warrior sprang into action. Rovalhon told them all that he had seen and a quick plan of attack was made. Soon there was no trace of any elf beneath the trees, they all had climbed up. "And so we fight again..." Legolas sighed softly. "You do not want to fight?" Rovalhon was sitting only a few branches lower than Legolas and had heard him. "I do! I fight!" the determined voice of his captain came back. Then after a short silence, he continued, barely heard: "My wish is to go to Udûn, I do not want to clear the entire Emyn Muil of rabble!" he paused and then whispered: "Here they come!"

  
  


The Uruks appeared over the rim of the slope. The elves let them pass under them until they surrounded the host. Then they started their attack from the trees with arrows. After this first attack one by one the warriors leaped out of the trees and fought further on the ground. Legolas was one of the last to come out of the tree. His skill was his bow and as long as possible he took out their opponents with arrows; all his arrows killed.

  
  


By the time that Legolas lowered himself to the ground, the combatants were already standing in a layer of dead bodies, blood and mud. Adversary after adversary they slew. The Uruk-hai were unprepared for this fight. They had merely been on route and it took them by surprise. They needed some time to organize themselves to be of any opposition to the elves. Although they were fighting machines and the time they needed was short, more than half of them had been killed by then.

The elves attacked on more than one point at a time. Because of this multiple-point-strategy the Uruks found their adversaries at their left and right, front and back, and some, like Legolas, in their middle. It only became dangerous for the elves when the Uruks encircled the ones that were fighting in the middle of the herd. But the elves knew the pros and cons of their battle tactics. Every time, an elf got in trouble because he could not handle the group of Uruks that encircle him, he would call: "Rind! Rind!" [Circle!], and the enemies would then be fiercely attacked by the ones outside the encircling group. The encircled elf crouched and with his spear**** chopped all legs from under his assailants, his strong backplate protecting him from the assaults of the Uruks. Should the others not be able to get to the encircling enemies soon enough, then the ones that were able to withdraw, pulled themselves out of the battle and into the trees and started to fire arrows onto the specific enemies. This was necessary only twice in this battle. 

  
  


As soon as the Uruks found out they were in minority, they fled, pursued by the elfs. Some of the fleeing Uruks were caught in the act by an arrow; others were slain with knives or spears. Only two hours after Legolas and Rovalhon had killed Rovalhon's pursuers the fight was over. They were tending to their wounded and piled up the carcasses of the dead Uruks. "Úlacho! I osp trenara pân," [Do not flame (set fire to) them. The smoke (will) attract(s) all] Legolas ordered. And after he made sure that every warrior could walk they were on the move again. 

  
  


Little did they know that eyes followed their every move; one opponent got away.

  
  


A/Ns:* You've probably recognized this from the Battle of Helm's Deep, from Peter Jackson's TTT. I confess: guilty as charged.

** This was also in chapter 13: I renamed the place where the Black Gate stood into Black Fall (since 'ruin' was not in my sindarin dictionary).

***Lothlórien faded after the passing of Galadriel and Celeborn but some of the elves that had lived there moved to the south of Eryn Lasgalen. They called the new land East Lórien and lived there peacefully for many long years.

**** I don't know whether only the High Elves fought with this 'knife on a stick'. But since there remained some of them at the time of the War of the Rings, I can imagine that maybe one moved to the realm of Thranduil. And so I made the elves of Mirkwood also capable of fighting with this weapon.

  
  


I hope I described the battle-scene adequate enough. I've never wrote anything like it. I'm a rather peace loving type of human.

  
  


Review of reviews:

To Lyn: I liked your review about the proverb. Literally it says: two flies in one blow. So I suppose your American and Japanese proverbs are very close. 

To all others: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

  
  


13 September 2003: changed a semantic matter.


	15. he wants to know

15. Suppose I was the inventor of Middle Earth, I would write my stories as J.R.R. Tolkien, now would I? I write my story as ievandie, so it is not hard to figure it out, now is it?

  
  


This chapter contains a large number of completely naked elfwarriors so...

read on!

  
  
  
  


...he wants to know!

  
  


The hills of the Emyn Muil are covered with a variety of deciduous trees like oaks, cherries and ashes. Under which there is an abundance of wild flowers. You'll find cowslip, wood anemone, bluebells and many more there. It is where deers and rabbits find a place to hide. On the south side of these hills the land slopes down to the Nindalf, or Wetwang, as it is called in the common speech. There you'll find little pools and streams bordered by reed, sedge and meadowsweet. In the pools the water soldier grows so thick that it makes complete floating carpets. An occasionally birch or alder will stand out against the horizon that on clear days is in the east framed by the shapes of the Ephel Dúath, the Mountains of Shadow that bordered Mordor. 

Between these two biotopes there is a transition-land of grassy plains and little streams. There are beautiful wooded banks with dogwood and blueberries, hazel and maple. This fairy tail landscape was rudely disturbed by sounds of bathing and washing elves.

  
  


Since they entered the Emyn Muil the warriors of Legolas' company had had no opportunity to clean themselves in clear water. On the other hand they had, and had taken, all the opportunities to get themselves dirty, sweaty and covered with orcblood and mud. This change of washing away all that was eagerly welcomed. And so in the sunshine of the early morning about twelve completely naked elfwarriors found themselves splashing around in the cool but clear water. Suddenly a horse jumped over the wooded banks on the opposite site of the little stream. On its back was a very dirty creature. Its armour, with helmet, was a mix. It consisted of orc, elf and man armourcomponents and was barely visible because of mud and branches that stuck to it. The rider led its horse half way down the stream and then, with a big splash, it just dropped off. 

  
  


The elves startled. They rushed out of the water, gathering their arms. When the creature surfaced again, it was facing twelve arrows aimed at him. Now that some of the dirt came off, the elves could see the strange mixture of the armour better. The helm with two slightly curved peaks was definitely Easterling, as were the peaked shoulderplates. Covering the breast was a layered leather orc-tunic. The lower armplates and, even more conspicuous, the shield and sword that were hanging from the horses saddle, were distinctly Uruk-hai. To complete the jumble, just above the waterline the beginning of a lower-body protecting plate of the high elfs was visible around the hips. 

However even more confusing then the coverings were the actions of this freak. The warrior just cast one look over their arms and naked bodies and laughed out loud! It began taking pieces of the armour of its body, cleaning them in the water and throwing them to the banks. Taking absolutely no notice of the armed elves!

  
  


"Hey you! I don't know what you are, but if you do not want to become a practice target, leave now" Rovalhon commanded the creature. It stopped its actions, moved its still helmed head from right to left along the line of archers and stopped to face Rovalhon. "I only want to use the water. It is not yours, is it?" and with that it started peeling itself again.

  
  


"Toltho i Caun" [Fetch the captain] Rovalhon whispered to one of them. The others silently filled the gap in the line and one elf disappeared quickly into the wooded banks. After only five minutes he reappeared with a moist, clean and clad Legolas. He only got out of the water just before the stranger had appeared. 

  
  


Out in the water the rider was still cleaning armour, stripping himself. Without turning from it, Rovalhon gave a frustrated account about the man not stopping or saying his name. The strange warrior was now stripped and wore nothing more but a brownish, torn tunic. On the left upper arm a dirty and blooded bandage could be seen. It pulled the helmet from its head and started rinsing that, its face was dark with mud and in the hairs were clots of blood or mud or... 

"Deri nad!" [Remain thing (aimed at it)] Rovalhon called out. The bows were once more aimed, almost to the brink of firing, at the intruder. Who, at that moment threw its helmet to the shore, and with a snort of pleasure started plunging its head into the stream. The water around it coloured brown and reddish from all the mud. The stranger splattered about tossing its face from left to right, now and again emerging to take a breath. The sight was not encouraging: streams of red, brown and yellow were pouring down from its long hair.

"Shall I shoot it Milord? What do you think?" Rovalhon called in the common tongue to Legolas. He was hoping that this would convince the creature that they meant business. Yet, it just plunged on. 

  
  


Legolas looked at the dunging creature and then at Rovalhon. He was about to say something when the creature emerged again, tossing her wet hair through the air to her back. The water was running down her face, down her neck, over her breast and into the open tunic, she looked cold but very fresh and was glinting with water and with a voice that retrained laughter she said: "Your lord does not want to think, he wants to know!"

  
  


A/N: OOOOOH YES!!!!!

  
  


13 September 2003: changed some verbs into the present tense.


	16. New information

16. I own Middle-earth and all that roams it (in a book on my nightstand!). So I own a copy of J.R.R. Tolkien's masterpiece. And that's all.

  
  


For reviews of reviews: see bottom of page.

  
  


New information.

  
  


To say that the elves were dazed, would be an understatement. They stared in stupefied disbelief at the image of a beautiful, completely wet elfmaiden in the water. Expecting an Uruk-hai and seeing 'this' emerging from under all those layers of dirt and mud was a bit too much. They did not whistle or cheer; after all they were elves and not some band of man-soldiers. However they did feel the pressing urge to cover themselves. Rovalhon coughed to get Legolas's attention. "Yes, well, I don't think you have to shoot her Rovalhon." Legolas said. On that signal the twelve warriors rushed out of the water and took their clothes behind the wooded bank. 

The smile that was tugging at the corners of Legolas's mouth broadened: "Estel a glass an i arad, brennil" [Hope and joy for the day, milady; common elven morning's greeting; see also chapter 8] he nodded towards her. She nodded back and returned his greetings. "Would you do me the pleasure of having breakfast with us?" he continued, "We could exchange information; I take to that: I want to know..." 

She chuckled. "It sounds nice," he felt his spirits rise, "however all information has its price." she continued. 

"Your information must be good if you want more than a breakfast." he returned, "Tell me your price, and we will see." "Well," she hesitated for a moment, and then continued: "I was hoping you could spare a clean smock..." 

He looked at her, the way she was standing there, shivering almost imperceptible in the light breeze, he felt like he was king of all Middle Earth, all weariness just slid away from him. He had to hold on to her, for his heart's sake. She looked back at him and slowly her suntanned face coloured slightly. He felt his smile creep back on his face when she submerged again. He waited until she had to come up to breath and said: "I'll bring some clothes and keep the man in the camp. I'll start boiling water for tea. Take your time." then he turned and, feeling very content, he returned to the camp. 

Thûlocuil looked at his disappearing back. I was blushing! Thank the Valar for this cold water! And lecturing herself, she started to take off her last clothes.

  
  


The day was ending. The last rays of sun were touching the Emyn Muil. They had had a leisurely daytrip, travelling east towards Udûn through the marshes. Thûlocuil proved a skilled Ranger as she led them without any hesitation through the treacherous lands. Legolas had enjoyed this day like no other. Seeing her and hearing her jest with his men turned his blood into a warm flow. Of course Rovalhon had been curious how he knew her. But since their meeting in Minas Tirith had nothing secretive about it, he was soon content and did not bother Legolas with more sensitive questions. Yet Rovalhon did use his eyes that day and had noticed the change in his captain. 

"Legolas?" He looked at her. "Ned loeg tol loda, ennas echad."[In (that) pool (there is a) island (that) floats, (we can) camp there.] Rovalhon cut in: "Camp? In the middle of a marsh? I do not like that idea!" He looked at Legolas. Thûlocuil responded to his remarks: "It's save, it just moves gently with the wind and your moves, but we will stay dry." 

"Even with twenty of us?" Legolas asked her. No of course not! he thought, that's why she suggested it! I should use my brains more when she is around or else... Or else what Legolas? Or else what!

"If you do not have any sleepwalkers among your company, they will all spend a dry night there," she replied. Turning her head and pointing towards the pool she was talking of, she did not see his discomfort. But Rovalhon, who had been looking at his captain for an answer, did, and it confirmed what he thought he had seen during this day. His captain was a bit more involved then he let on. 

Thûlocuil continued: "I do not want to cross the marshes at night, although it can be done, it is not the easiest or driest way." she turned to the two males again.

And I'm too happy with your clean and dry smock, she thought. I would like to keep it that way, just for now! Aloud she said to Rovalhon: "Something can be arranged though, if you insist on getting all slimy, wet and smelly again, you should just do five steps to your right. That will take care of your needs sufficiently!" Both she and Legolas laughed, because of the face that Rovalhon made. "Let's go, please lead the way," Legolas said, smiling at his lieutenant, but not entirely because of him. 

  
  


The island was large enough to camp on. It was the only place where they could sit and sleep if they did not want to do that in a line. They started a fire and after dinner they all sat in a circle around it. It was the only light for miles around. Rovalhon was mocking: "I think it is strange to sit on something that surges. Yes, I know," he waved his hands in the direction of Thûlocuil, who was sitting next to him, "it is only slightly, but it does anyway!" "You ought to feel what happens if we all start jumping!" Thûlocuil answered. 

  
  


"How come you know this place?" he asked her. "I'm a Ranger, I know lots of places" she said. "And how come, that you are 'a Ranger'? I only heard of men, and more precisely the Dúnedain, doing that. And they stopped being it, since Elessar became King of the Reunited Kingdom. I never, ever heard of an elf-ranger." He said the word 'Ranger' like it was something far beneath an elf. She returned his question with another: "How old are you Rovalhon?" 

"He is 2953, we were born in the same year," Legolas answered. He sat facing them and had been following their talk with interest. "Yeah, go and tell her everything there is about me..." Rovalhon muttered. 

She said to him: "Well, did you ever heard of Hobbits before Legolas told you about them?" 

"Yes! As a matter of fact, I did. I have family in Imladris [Rivendell, but you all knew that one!] and they heard of them. No, lady, you have to come up with something else to catch me..." the triumph in Rovalhon's voice was unmistakable.

She let out a chuckle and was silent for some time. Then she said in a soft voice: "Good, did you ever heard of an elf called Nenmírdan?" 

"No, and it is not likely that any of us has, since there are no smiths who can forge water" Rovalhon answered. [A/N: Nen=watery mírdan=jewel smith]. 

"Still, once there was a man who was called so and could do so. Although you never heard of him, he made a jewel that was of vital importance to this world. He and it existed once in this world." she continued, her voice low. 

"Nenya!*" Legolas whispered, as Galadriel's ring suddenly occurred to him. She jerked her head at him; the look in her eyes had changed. Terror had taken the place of wit. Legolas could only look at those eyes, radiating so powerful this strange emotion. Why? Why would she panic when he found out that this Nenmírdan aided in forging Nenya? What had she to do with an elf that once lived in Eregion**? What was her connection with Nenya? 

"Well, it passed over the sea as did the Lady of the Golden Wood herself," came the impatient voice of Rovalhon: "end of story!" he continued. "Tell me this: you Rangers always have information from everywhere, don't you?" He did not seem to notice that Thûlocuil did not answer. "Then tell me this: what have you been doing before you dropped yourself into OUR bath?" 

Thûlocuil breathed deeply in relieve. She had brought herself into trouble with her big mouth. Trying to outwit Rovalhon, but forgetting Legolas; she promised herself to beware! When was she planning on starting on that? No doubt he already wondered about her connection with Eregion. And to talk of Nenmírdan... she had not said that name for at least four centuries. She eagerly accepted Rovalhon's way out: "Well, about a fortnight ago I ran into a group of about one hundred orcs...

  
  


It was night. Legolas was on watch. Thûlocuil told them what she had done: following the group of Uruk-hai for several days. Attacking them on various occasions and slaying some thirty of them. Although the elves did not show it, they had been struck dumb by this information. That she had slew thirty of these creatures all alone was rather unbelievable. After some pressure she admitted that she did got injured herself, and they gave her some salve, although she already put some Athelasleaves on the wound. She told them it was almost healed but Legolas had watched her refreshing the bandages later. The cut was a nasty one. 

It was these attacks that got her the strange mixture of armour. Since the orcs did some damage to her own she just lent some of theirs. She had not been aware of how strange this action was to the Elves of Eryn Lasgalen. They would not be caught dead in any armour of Mordor's allies. Yet she spoke casual of it. She also had not cast the armour away, but had put most of it in the saddle bags of her horse and some of it on again. She told them that the Uruks had been on their way to the South Undeep and from there to Fangorn. What could be their business there, she did not know. 

  
  


She had told a lot, more then Legolas counted on. He strongly suspected her of telling so much in order to distract their attention from this Nenmírdan. However, she had not told them everything: where did she pick up the Easterling parts of her outfit? How come that she possessed a part of High Elven armour? And how did she know of the Uruks'plans? She was badly injured, yes, but not that bad that she would not have been able to follow the Uruks nomore. It was definitely the same group that Legolas and his men encountered. But where had she been by then? She said that she lost them. Rovalhon believed this, but Legolas had seen too much of her. No one capable of 'losing' a host of seventy orcs was called 'Great Warrior' by the men of Gondor and Ithilien. Where had she been when they had attacked the Uruk-hai? Her story left him full of questions. 

Be that as it may, by the time she told them of her encounters with the Uruk-hai and answered all questions his men had about her attacks on them, he could see that she was very weary. Where they had been able to catch some sleep, she, being alone, had had only a little. So he told his men to go to sleep for tomorrow they would set out early again. And that whole day he could and would find answers to his questions. She had agreed on travelling with them to Udûn. They persisted to travel to Udûn, although the Uruk-hai had been heading for Fangorn. Gimli would be at the Morn Dant and Thûlocuil was certain that, whatever the Uruks had planned to do in Fangorn, Udûn was the place where they had set off and therefore it was the place where the answers would be found.

  
  


Legolas had taken the first watch and was thinking about her. Yet, despite all his questions and sorrow, he could not help but feeling complete again. There was peace instead of the rush he had felt since he had left Osgiliath or maybe even since he left Minas Ithil. And he knew that the reason for those feelings was sleeping nearby... He looked up, his sensible ears had picked up something. There it was again, very soft: a low growl. Immediately he armed his bow and closed his eyes. He concentrated on the direction the faint sound was coming from. Again he heard it; a soft growl was coming from where Thûlocuil was sleeping! She was making the noise in her sleep, probably from the pain her arm was causing her. He walked over to where she laid and kneeled beside her. The little light the fire gave was enough for his eyes to take a look at her arm. She had rolled up the sleeve of his smock, but the smile this caused him, disappeared quickly when he saw the bandage on the upper arm: it was soaked with blood. He put down his bow and gently took her arm to take a better look at it. Suddenly he froze, feeling cold steel against his throat. Only turning his eyes, he looked at her face. Her eyes were open and sparkling with anger. "What do you thi..." she stopped her hissing and fell silent when she recognized his eyes. Legolas swallowed and not only because of the dagger she was holding, for their faces were only a leave apart...

  
  


and neither of them heard the low growling sound that came from behind.

  
  


A/N: *Nenya was one of the three elvenrings. It was Galadriel's. Its name means: 'watery (ring)'. Therefore it was also called the Ring of Water. Its stone was a diamond.

** Eregion was the elvenland west of Khazad-dûm. The elves of Eregion were unequalled smiths. Sauron, disguised as Annatar, the Lord of Gifts, taught them secrets to enhance and refine their craft. With this knowledge the elves of Eregion forged the Rings of Power. Only, Sauron betrayed them making The One Ring in the fires of Mount Doom. In the year 1697 of the second age, he destroyed Eregion.

***I renamed the place where the Black Gate stood into Black Fall (since 'ruin' was not in my Sindarin dictionary).

  
  


If you want to know something peculiar about this chapter, and the name Nenmírdan, please read my bio.

  
  


Review of reviews:

Princess of Mirkwood: I'm surprised (and happy!) by your nice review of chapter 15. Since the one of chapter 14 was making me sad. I am grateful that you are still reading this. I think it best to finish this at my own pace. Thanks for your review!

  
  


I was getting worried that no-one read this anymore! I was glad to find your review Adrienne. You asked me wether there was a new Ringwar going on. Thûlocuil said to Ragnor: "...Terror is rising in Udûn, let's all use our skills to prevent another Ringwar." This got Legolas started. If you want to reread this: it is in chapter 11. The question is: did she meant this figurative (as a warning and a reference to the severeness and scale of what it might become) or literally?

  
  


13 September 2003: reviewed because of some spelling errors.


	17. To speak in tongues

17. I only claim the writers-block and good feeling those reviews (PLEASE) give me. But that's about it.

  
  


To speak in tongues.

  
  


Thûlocuil's first thought had been of orcs. She always slept with her dagger within reach; habits die hard when they are practised for over 4000 years, and this habit had proved its profit more than once. She shot awake with the adrenalin rushing trough her body, in a reflex, that gave away her experience, she moved. A moment later she recognized Legolas's eyes and her body froze, but not only because he was not an orc; for he was way too close...

  
  


Legolas stared into her eyes. He saw the reflection of the campfire in those soft mirrors. What had these eyes seen? How old was she? Where had these eyes been? He smiled: I want to know! he thought.

  
  


Thûlocuil never had seen another elf's eyes from this close. 'The mirror of the soul' she had once read. She saw the emotions in his eyes change; from horror to an overwhelming desire and then to curiosity and finally they truly laughed. She felt like she was sinking into those eyes when suddenly she became aware of a dark form looming over them. She looked up and moved her dagger. Towering above them was an Uruk-hai. It's black skin was glistening and in contrast the yellow teeth almost radiated. 

  
  


She began to shout: "Erio! Erio! Uruk-hai! E..." (Rise! Rise! Uruk-hai!) The Uruk grabbed with one strong hand Legolas's neck and jerked him off her. With his other hand he seized her arm that held the dagger at the wrist. With all his force he increased the pressure on her wrist. It felt like the bone was going to snap and Thûlocuil was forced to let go of the dagger. 

  
  


Legolas pulled up his legs, placed his feet against the torso and with a thrust stretched his legs. Thus he launched himself from the creature. Meanwhile Thûlocuil kicked the Uruk in the hollow of the knee. Although they are fighting-machines, the fierceness of two elven-warriors was a bit too much, even for the Uruk. He lost his grip on Legolas, who sailed some way through the air before he came down on the resilient underground. Now the Uruk had both hands free and with a evil laugh it hit Thûlocuil's other arm, exactly on the bandage. Then it seized her by the throat, while reaching for its sword. By the time Legolas came charging in, it was ready for the counterattack. Using Thûlocuil as a shield, it charged with its hooked sword at Legolas. 

  
  


The other elves had been roused by the call from Thûlocuil. They came near with arrows stung to their bows, but were reluctant to shoot any, afraid of hitting the 'shield'. Legolas started to circle around the Uruk and the creature was forced to mirror the elf's movements. His attention divided between Legolas and the treat of the elves, he tossed his 'shield' back and fro, like a rag doll, without a free will. However, this made his grip less strong. Thûlocuil inhaled sharply and shouted: "Cabo! Cabo! Ca..". (Jump!) She was cut short because the Uruk raised his knee and slammed her body hard against it. She was hit just beneath the arch of her ribs, and all air was forced out of her lungs. 

  
  


The elves did not move, the command had been too strange and coming from a stranger too. But Legolas suddenly remembered her comment to Rovalhon about the movement of the island and started jumping, repeating the command. At first nothing seemed to happen, the Uruk stood still, looking at the elves who apparently had gone mad, jumping up and down like they had been lying in an anthill. But slowly the ground started rising and falling and soon the whole island was surging like it was an ocean during a tempest. Even the elves had trouble to stay on their feet. The Uruk tried to retain its balance, Thûlocuil's weight made that hard to do and she was wiggling to enhance the effect. The Uruk took one uncertain step but when it put its foot down, the ground seemed to fall and it tumbled. In a reflex it stretched its arms to hold of the collision. Thûlocuil had been anticipating this and rolled away the moment she felt the tight grip on her loosen. Instantly she was up on all fours and crawling towards where she had been sleeping. She grabbed her sword, and was reassured by the feeling of cold metal against her palm... Good! And now she would show him... 

  
  


The moment he had seen the Uruk fall, Legolas had ordered his man to stop jumping. However, the soil continued moving. Like a lake that had been stirred, the movement died out rather slowly. Luckily they could tread as light as elves and so were largely in advance now: finding their balance quickly enough and moving towards the Uruk. Yet, since they did not know where Thûlocuil was, they held back their arrows. Slowly they advanced, bows drawn. 

  
  


Only one rushed in: Thûlocuil. She used the waves of the underground like a surfer would do and jumped onto the Uruk just before he was getting up again. The force of the hit made him fall into the ground again. Before he knew what happened she found an opening in his wargear, sliced it open and his naked back was exposed. She softly pressed the sword onto the black skin. "Bhadûrat agh mata durt,"(Move and die for sure [litt.: change and die sure] A/N: in the Black Speech (!)) she said.

  
  


Like always when someone utters the Black Speech, her voice sounded harsh and cold. The approaching elves froze on hearing the Black Speech of Mordor. But they were not the only ones surprised. The Uruk was astounded and turned his head to see who was addressing him in Sauron's language; it costed him. With a quick movement Thûlocuil gave him a nasty cut from his shoulder blades to the base of his neck. "Glob! Bugud agh dhaar!" (Fool! Name and rank!) she told him. Legolas heard the Uruk wince from pain when she increased the pressure of her blade on his neck. The Uruk spitted and then answered: "Globûrz Golug! Globob Golug!" (Filthy elves! Foolish she-elf!). His comment ended in another cry. "Ghashkrutat!" (Answer!) Thûlocuil bit back. She did not take her eyes from the Uruk, when she heard someone clear his throat. "Legolas?" she asked. "Thûlocuil?" He sighed and continued in Sindarin: "Maybe you could tell me what's going on here?" This time she could not withstand the urge and cast him a quick look. He was standing some 6 feet away, his bow drawn, the arrow and his eyes fixed on the head of the Uruk. "I'm interrogating him." she said, also talking elvish. "In the Black Speech of Mordor?" She looked at him again: "Yes." He did not look at her, but she could see his eyes narrowing at her answer. Yet, his only reply was: "I see. Can't he speak the Common Speech?" Her voice was cold when she answered: "I do not believe that you never interrogated anyone, Your Highness. As you probably understand his own Speech is...""Taer. Im daron, edpedich." (You're right, I stop, please continue [litt.: Straight, I stop, you speak forth]) Legolas cut in. 

  
  


She did: "Bugud agh dhaar! Ghashkrutat!" (Name and rank! Answer!) When there came no answer, she continued in a dangerously soft voice. "Lat brusat nar ufum? Lat kul mankumûrz Uruk-hai?" Her voice rose: "Khlaarizg! Kulizg Sûmob Slaiumlob!" (You have no fear? You are fighting Uruk-hai? Hear me! I am Sûmob Slaiumlob*) For a moment Legolas thought he heard the Uruk cry in fear. "What did you say to him?" he asked. "I just told him my name. What do you want to know from him Legolas?" "I do not believe that you never interrogated anyone, Milady..." Legolas shot back. 

  
  


Thûlocuil stared at the head of the Uruk. Unlikely as it was at that moment, she was smiling to herself, had she managed to stir his feelings? She felt her heart race and knew the fight was only part of the cause. Suddenly the Uruk started to talk. "Sauron kulat matum. Ikhlab kulat nardurbûrz rad." (Sauron is death. Your power [force] is not strong now.) Legolas could only distinguish the name of Sauron. Thûlocuil's voice was harsh and at the same time sweet like honey when she answered: "Lat kul durt? Lat narmok gimblût?" (You are sure? You like (to) find out?). The Uruk was silent. Thûlocuil made the Uruk turn and faced him standing on his chest, her sword under his chin. Legolas and the surrounding elves all had their arrows pointed at him. There was no escape. Finally the Uruk gave in. "I speak the filthy common tongue," he started. "I have followed you trough the hills and the swamp, you stupid elves have no idea of how we Uruk-hai can travel. We are above all others. We can travel trough a swamp like it is one of your disgusting woods. It is easy for us. We are fighting Uruk-hai, we know no fear. We will fight, we will win, we will rule!" And then suddenly he raised his arm as if to grab Thûlocuil and like one single shot, the arrows were released. The Uruk felt the pain they caused shorter than a breath, for at the same moment Thûlocuil's sword ended his life with one stroke.

  
  


* * *

They were sitting around the remainders of the fire. This time in an uneasy silence. Distinctively Thûlocuil sat alone.   
  


They had rolled the dead body into the swamp. None of the elves were hurt, only Thûlocuil had had to change the bandage on her arm. They doubled the watch but nobody felt like sleeping anymore. The break of day was not far of and most warriors were sitting, some eating of their provisions, but most just thinking. And they had a lot to think about. 

  
  


Legolas was no exception. He had noticed the change in his men's behaviour towards her. They clearly avoided her. What am I to think of all this? Never in his life had he heard any elf speak the language of Mordor. And yet she had, with an ease that made him shiver. The Uruk had been afraid of her and had known her; he had been close enough to see the eyes of the creature. Never had he seen any fear in eyes of these fighting machines, not at Amon Hen, nor at Helm's Deep. And he had seen Uruk-Hai on those occasions close enough. Nevertheless when she told the Uruk her name... Did she tell him her name? It had not sounded anything like 'Thûlocuil'.

  
  


He sighed, looked at her, sitting with her eyes closed, painfully clear radiating 'leave me be!'. Well, that just wouldn't do, she knew him by now: he wanted to know!

  
  


"Thûlocuil?" he spoke softly, but he noticed how all his men turn their heads. She just sighed, and did not even open her eyes when she said: "Legolas?". "I like to have a word with you." This time she opened her eyes to narrow slits. Then in an effort to sound airily she answered: "You want to know... yes, that could have been expected! Well, let's walk." She rose. As Legolas got up, so did Rovalhon. He took a step in Legolas's direction. "I'll come with you." he said. "There is no necessary," Legolas said. "Are you sure?" Rovalhon answered. Thûlocuil answered instead of Legolas: "It would have been much easier to kill you there and then when you were all naked and unarmed, Rovalhon." She turned her head and faced Legolas "However, we could talk here, what I tell you, I can tell your men". He looked at her and then slowly said, emphasizing every 'I': "I want to talk to you. I, not my men. They can line up if they want a conversation with you, I don't care, but I am the first in that line." He turned his head to Rovalhon: "Sorry, you just have to wait your turn if the lady grants you one." 

  
  


Thûlocuil looked at him. His message was clear: no more beating around the bush, no more courtesy. Here was a man, a captain, who wanted answers and was determined on getting them. She saw Rovalhon nod his head: "As you wish, my Captain." Then she felt a gentle but determined tug at her arm and their royal captain let her away from his men.

  
  
  
  


A/N: * This is the translation of Thûlocuil in the Black Speech: Breath of life with the female extension -ob.

  
  


Hello! Anyone out there?? I always thought that begging author's were pathetic, but here I am: sitting at my computer with a serious attack of hay fever coming up: crying my eyes out, using a lot (and I mean A LOT) tissues. Please review!

  
  


13 September 2003: changed some spelling.


	18. Conversation in the mist

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is already owned. I am a huge fan of Phill Collins and his song 'Find a way to my heart' was just so 'written on Thûlocuil's body' (as we say in Dutch (op het lijf geschreven); so I used a bit of it as a motto for this chapter.

  
  


Cos you know, questions are never that easy

And never the same

But you have the answer believe me

If you have the faith

Phill Collins - Find a way to my heart

  
  


18. Conversation in the mist.

  
  


He could not lead her far enough away, Legolas realised as he stopped at the brink of the island, still within hearing range of the elves by the fire. He looked around, when he felt a tuck on his sleeve and silently she led him further into the marshes.

  
  


When she stopped they could still see and be seen by the watchmen. 'Sí aen avar lasto ammen' (Here they won't hear [listen to] us) Thûlocuil said. Legolas simply answered: "Maer." (Good) 

"It is possible to sit down here," Thûlocuil said, already sitting down. "You just have to sit on these grassy polls, and you'll be fine." Slowly Legolas sat down beside her. There was a silence. Legolas had not thought she would come with him so willingly. And the strange thing was that now he had her here, to answer his questions, he did not know where to start. So many things he wanted to know, needed to know about her. Where should he start? He knew that asking the questions would not be the hardest thing. No, getting the answers would be the difficult part. 

  
  


He looked at her. She was 'stargazing', something elves liked to do; it eased a troubled mind and gave one's thoughts a change to wander. But he felt much to tense tonight to ease his mind. He would just have to trust on his judgement of elvish character although he did not trust his insights completely when it came to her.

  
  


Softly he began to speak, and the reeds that had not heard elvish for ages, seemed to stretch just a little bit as if they were eavesdropping. "I believe that it was not some foolish attempt to escape, when that Uruk made a try at you. I believe he made that last move on purpose. What did you make of it?"

She kept looking at the stars but, much to his relief, she did answer his question: "I agree that it was an act of suicide. However, he did escape, didn't he?" she sighed: "He took the shortest escape-route there was, and we offered it to him."

  
  


"Was there something else we could have done?" Legolas asked. 

  
  


Thûlocuil was surprised that the question did not sounded defensive, although she did commented his tactics and his decisions as a captain. No, it sounded like he had been thinking along this line himself and was eager to know what she had come up with. There was a sense of honesty and equality in his question. Maybe, she could try and be as honest as she could herself? The words faith or trust did not come to her mind. It had been thousands of years since those words had failed her, but somewhere on the brink of her subconsciousness a new feeling appeared, like the first rays of sun finally breaking through after a day full of rain.

  
  


When she spoke, it was in a determinated tone "No, I thought it over and over again myself, there was no other way." 

  
  


Legolas sensed the change in her. She was not more at ease, but she seemed to have taken a decision. He looked at her, her hair was braided again, but he remembered what it looked like when she had been standing on top of that Uruk. It had been a mess, especially since there had been no helmet to keep it in place. Loose strings had been hanging all around her head. She had looked small and yet, she had been the master of the creature. In moves, in words, in composure. She had looked terribly beautiful, tall and proud. For a moment more like a queen than a warrior. 

  
  


She looked at him and said: "If you don't talk, the others will start grumbling for having to stand that long in line." He smiled. "Where did you learn to speak 'the Black Speech'? You speak it rather fluently." He just had to know this, the rumours in the camp had haunted him since her first words in that horrible tongue. She shrugged, "I prefer to study my enemy instead of just stupidly rush in. And speaking one's tongue has some advantages, as you have seen." 

She looked away from him, "Although I did not get the information I wanted." she continued softly. 

"I never ever, in all my life have heard an elf speak in that tongue." Legolas said slowly, watching her for any reactions. Of course it was dark and she was an elf, so she was able to control all the little muscles of her face to make it look motionless. However, he was an elf too and he noticed that she did just that: control her muscles and appear to be unmoved. Only, there should not have been any reasons to do that. 

"You're wrong: you heard me uttering it this evening, and since I am an elf..."

'You're not an elf, you're a mystery' Legolas thought but he said: "Yes, an elf and a warrior, a Master Warrior as they called you at the camp. And I agree with that. It's a pity we never heard of you before, we could have used your skills in our Fellowship. I wonder why Gandalf did not make use of your skills? Did you know Gandalf?" Immediately he could actually sense her defences been built up again. 'Wrong Legolas' he thought. 'Wrong tone, wrong question, too offensive, too bold, too inquisitive, too eager... and that I am when it comes to her!'

As a complete contradiction to his thoughts and plans he looked at her and said: "I'm sorry to..."

But she interrupted him: "Don't be. I'm sorry that I can not answer your questions. There is a reason, I just... I..." she was silent. Legolas was afraid to even blink and destroy this moment, he just kept looking in her eyes and she kept looking back.

When she talked again her words came slow and soft, like she was not certain of them or like she tried to hold them back. "I had expected... to be free... and now it seems like..." she swallowed, "freedom is something I'll never have. It's just the same... only the one who imprisons change..." Legolas wanted to hold her, to protect her, his heart was aching to tell her that he would fight anybody who would dare to imprison her. And he wanted to know why she said this, what she had been through to talk like this, whose prisoner she had been? Of dwarfs, a prisoner of orcs? 

She was silent for a long time and he was wondering what to say, when suddenly she got up. She looked down at him and said: "I am a warrior, and you'll just have to take my word for it that my intentions are to stop this new terror and since I'm able to aid your cause this time, I certainly will, no matter how, no matter where... And this ends our conversation... I'll take a look at that line now, but I don't think any audiences will be granted anymore." The reeds and grasses shivered, regaining colour in the rays of the breaking sun.

  
  


And standing in the first light she was again the skilled warrior he had seen training in Minas Tirith. A shape on a field, unrecognizable. And yet, like then, this was only a shadow of one he had seen glimpses of when she stepped into the light.

  
  


......

A/N: First I want to thank my sister here for always encouraging me and B-reading.

  
  


Kalenniphredel: Thank you again for your review: it keeps me going! Hope your writers block is lessened. Kalen is much too nice and strong to leave her be when she is going to do something so difficult as to burry her loved ones and clean her city.

  
  


Well, the story-line is deepening more and more. There is a good part for Thranduil, better than I had given him first. But first they will encounter Ragnor and he still holds a grudge against her!

  
  


Thanks to everyone who is so kind as to leave a review, no matter how short. Just to know that you read this is an encouragement to me.

  
  


13 September 2003: changed an 's.


	19. Sûmob Slaiumlob Mordôrob

Disclaimer: Reading LOTR it is almost unnecessary to write a disclaimer; for only by the use of words it is obvious that I'm no Tolkien. I do not own anything that he wrote or thought up.

  
  


19. Sûmob Slaiumlob Mordôrob

That day none of the elves spoke to Thûlocuil. They silently followed her lead, only rarely whispering to each other. Legolas tried to alter the mood but neither his men nor Thûlocuil reacted to any of his remarks. The elf-ranger was more closed than ever, leading them without a word. As alive as she had been yesterday, so withdrawn she was today. How proud she had looked in the morning light, as the day wore on, she looked more and more defeated, like she had given up hope. The words from that morning haunted Legolas. Instead of answers he only had more questions now. 

  
  


Her mood forced him to reflect on his feelings for her. He was deeply affected, actually hurt himself, by her hurt. It felt like what he had experienced when he had heard the cry of the gulls in Pelagir, riding with Aragorn and the Shadow Host. The things she did, the way she moved; it stirred something deep inside of him. It hurt and it ached. But it also made him determent that he wanted to make this world a place where she could find happiness. The smile on her face when she was battering with Rhovalon last night, or even better, the roguish look in her eyes when they first encountered General Ragnor told him that there was a humorous and relaxed Thûlocuil hidden inside this serious and cautious being. And he felt that it was worth anything he could do to let her surface again. 

  
  


Thûlocuil was at a loss. From the moment she met Legolas her feelings gradually had become more and more like mud on a training field after rain: slippery, unreliable and unclear. She had built up her life these past twenty years, she had roamed Middle Earth and had been in contact with a lot of its people. She had been asked questions before. Most of the times answering did not bother her, yet she frequently handled the truth creatively. Even to people like Arwen and King Elessar she occasionally did not tell the complete truth, although they just did not ask the wrong questions. 

  
  


Legolas did. He asked all the questions she could never answer without lying to him or telling him the truth. But she did not want to do either. He, who had been so hurt by the acts of Sauron; had she not seen it in his eyes when he spoke to her about the loss of his friends? She couldn't tell her truth to him nor to anyone. So why, in the name of the Valar, did she wanted to do just that? Why did she wanted to tell him everything? Everything and everything, from the moment of her birth to this walk through the marshes?

  
  


When the night fell they rested again on one of the floating islands. They did not make a fire this time and they had double watches again. No-one asked Thûlocuil to take a watch and so she tried to sleep, for she knew she should benefit from the company. Although they were not that friendly anymore, they were no foes and it could be some time before she would have the luxury of a watched camp again. However, sleep was something that would not come easy that night. She just laid stargazing, hearing the soft whispers of the watches, feeling the gentle moves of the island when they were relieved. Although lost in thought and the sky above, she heard someone approach by the time Menelvagor* had reached its zenith. Her hand moved to the hilt of her sword that she kept very close this night.

  
  


"Pen albaur megil, egor anírach milui maeth?" (One (does) not need (a) sword unless you desire (a) friendly fight?) Legolas said. Thûlocuil did neither move, nor say anything, so Legolas continued: "I think we can reach the Morn Dant tomorrow..." still only silence. "Gimli will be there, I hope with some of Aragorn's man and maybe some other generals... if they have reached an agreement by now." She remained silent and so did Legolas for a moment. Then he too looked at the stars and softly spoke: "Do you regret our conversation last night? Because I don't want you to think that I might. I want you to know I feel rather the opposite." He heard her release her breath and then her voice came out of the night: "I'm glad for the people of Eryn Lasgalen; they will have a caring and loving king one day. Please stay open to other people even if some may hurt you." He glanced at her and then said: "Only what touches the heart might hurt us." And with that he turned and walked away.

  
  


Thûlocuil could hear the beat of her heart like drums in the night. How could she, after some twenty years of seeing men of all races, fall in love with this one? Her first instincts had been right: this elf was dangerous to her very existence! And he didn't know, yet what if he did? He would turn away from me, she thought; and even the thought of that hurts, devastates, because... because... I already love him too much! That night sleep did not come at all for Thûlocuil.

  
  


The next day Legolas felt strangely at ease. When they reached Dagorlad, he walked the Battle Plain like he entered his own memories. He had not been here since he stood here with Aragorn and Eomer, with Gandalf and Gimli and an army of less than six thousand to withstand the powers of Mordor. Here they had fought the final battle in the War of the Ring. A battle that, on forehand, had seemed useless. He remembered the moment when all the hosts of Mordor had trembled, the moment that the earth itself had risen under his feet. Here he had witnessed the downfall of the Towers of the Teeth and the crumbling of The Black Gate into the Morn Dant. Here Gandalf had summoned the great eagles to search for Sam and Frodo. In this place he had thought all of Middle Earth would be lost and here he had felt washed over with happiness when Gwaihir, Landroval and Meneldor returned with their precious loads. 

  
  


When he saw the tents and the flags of Gondor, Ithilien, Rohan and Dol Amroth it was like his memories had come to life before his very eyes. A rider came forth from the camp and halted a few passes from Legolas and Thûlocuil. "Hail Master Warrior and Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, tents have been put up for you and your company, you can rest and refresh. The generals request a meeting at sundown." Thûlocuil answered: "Thank you for your concern, it gives hope to see so many of you gathered here, I'm looking forward to meeting the generals again". She slipped into her 'Master Warrior'-personality: if no-one can touch me, no-one can hurt me, she thought. You were oh so right there Legolas. She smothered the little voice of her heart that said: "Save that it's already too late", mounted her horse and with a nod to Legolas she rode towards the tents.

  
  


Legolas also thanked the herald and the man accompanied them to their tents. Legolas followed Thûlocuil with his eyes, but soon she disappeared between the tents and from his view. Being a captain, he got his own tent, and yet, on entering, he found it already occupied: on the cot sat Gimli. He was carefully whetting his axe with a whetstone, his short legs dangling over the bedside. The dwarf looked up inquisitively when Legolas entered. "Twenty seven" Legolas said and put down his bow and quiver. "You had more luck than I: only four!" a bit of disappointment was on the rim of Gimli's voice. Since they started this at Helm's Deep they always compared their slain adversaries. "But I heard you not only got lucky fighting orcs..." Gimli continued his whetting while speaking. Legolas stopped unbuckling the belt that hold his long knives and stared at his short friend. "Meaning?" "Well, you entered this camp in the company of a certain she-elf, didn't you?" Gimli closely eyed the blade of his axe and discovering a virtually non-existent burr on it, he started whetting it again. "Meaning?" Legolas repeated. "Well, you probably had some time to ask questions, didn't you?" Legolas did not answer, but slowly continued stripping himself of his armour. "So, you did." Gimli stated. Reluctantly Legolas gave in: "Since otherwise you'll probably hear this from someone else and they'll just lay it on..." he gave a short account of their journey. But whereas he presumed his men to lay it on, he himself laid quite a bit off. When he had finished his tale, he had put on clean clothes and was lying back on the bed. Gimli carefully tried the sharpness of his axe with his callused thump. Content, he sighed, lowered his axe to his lap and said: "You were right about one thing Legolas; you did ask the wrong question!" "Meaning?" Legolas said once more. "What is so interesting about where she learned to speak that tongue?" "Meaning?" Legolas repeated, raising not only his eyebrow but also himself on his elbow and eyeing his dwarf-friend. "You are using the full range of your broad vocabulary today, are you master-elf?" The dwarf smirked: "Meaning: what if you had asked the question I told you to ask: whether she likes you or not, would that not have made all the other questions insignificant? Would you then still be so eager to know all the other answers?" And when Legolas with a thud fell back on the bed, he continued: "Yeah! You think about that now for a while!" He muttered on: "Elves! I know why you live an eternity; you need it because you make things so complicated, you'll need an eternity to clear them up again!" Legolas got up to a full sit this time and started angrily: "And what if she was on Sauron's side during The War? Or what if she was tortured by him or his servants? What if she has something to do with the downfall of Eregion? What if..." But he was boldly interrupted by his friend. "Yeah, yeah, yeah what if all your 'what ifs' are true? What if she has a nasty secret? What then Legolas? What if you know a bit more and think a bit less, eh?" and then Gimli's tone became suddenly softer and kinder, he brought his face close to Legolas's, looked him in the eyes and said: "What if you had asked this question Legolas? What if she had given you a positive response? Would that not have whirled away all your 'what ifs' or at least made an entry for you to get some answers?" He kept their gaze locked for a moment and then, as sudden as the intimate mood had appeared, it vanished again. Gimli eyed the blade of his axe once more and he continued light-hearted: "Gladly I'm a dwarf and have nor the time nor the will to wander on 'what ifs'. So what do you say to: What if we get a bit to eat and after that I'll smoke a pipe and you'll think just a bit more and then we'll attend the meeting?" and with that he took his axe and left the tent.

  
  


* * *

They did as planned. Only while smoking Gimli was forced to answer Legolas's questions about his travel to Minas Tirith and the Morn Dant. Aragorn had trusted his old friends' judgement without a doubt but, like Gimli predicted, he also was reluctant to offend his generals by sending too many men with Gimli. So he let some thirty of his most skilled men join Gimli. This had a side-effect: hearing of the men that Aragorn sent with his old friend, the generals decided that they could also continue their debates near the Morn Dant. Messengers were sent to Edoras, Minas Ithil, Minas Thirith and Dol Amroth and they moved their tents to Dagorlad. 

In his turn Legolas told Gimli that his father had an army of dwarves ready when they were needed. All Gimli had to do was send word.

Gimli and Legolas went to the same big tent in the middle of the camp when the sun set. There they met with the thirteen generals again and also with Thûlocuil.

  
  


When they were all seated, one of the generals rose and welcomed everybody. He introduced all those present. Then he stated what they already knew: an increasing amount of orcs where roaming Ithilien and Mirkwood. Even from Rohan there were reports of plundering orcs. The creatures seemed to randomly attack villages and murder people and animals. Where they came from and the reason for their increased activities no one could tell. The generals had made guesses and assumptions, but that had not got them far. When the first speaker sat down he asked Legolas and then Gimli and finally Thûlocuil to share with them what they knew. Legolas told them about the orcs they had met during their journey, Gimli told Aragorn's point of view: to strike any evil before it became more powerful. Thûlocuil told them she had found out that the main host of orcs was still in Mordor. "They have strongholds in Udûn, but mostly they hide in tunnels and holes in the defiles of the Ash Mountains, but not near that place where once stood Barad-dûr; they avoid that area at all costs." One of the generals asked if they would ever be able to defeat any army, even small, if it was hiding in tunnels and holes only known to the locals; those very orcs. "I do not like sending my men into an orc-trap, and that's just what this sounds like." "I wouldn't ask you or your men to walk into a trap if there was no necessity," Thûlocuil answered. "Luckily, some already found it a necessity some years ago, and from their information I can draw you a map of the main tunnels and holes. I think we could seal the majority of their exits and at the others wait for them while some of us rout them out." There was a discussion about the feasibility of these plans, but most of the generals were willing to at least try. Then another general spoke up: "I think there might be a change for success if we know what drives these creatures. They seem to have a mission. It is not like them to work together like they do now, at least not without a leader." When he sat down, another one rose, he was from Dol Amroth, his name was Pharazbâr, for his hair was the colour of a cornfield just before the harvest. "I have heard all your assumptions for several days. As you know, our Lord Imrahil is a direct descendant from Galador Half-elven. And from the days of Galador there is a legend about these days; that is the days after the fall of the Zigûrun, the Wizard Sauron. It is written that when the Zigûrun falls, an Heir will rise from the ashes of his realm. This Heir will bring prosperity and new live to his realm. We believe that it is him that these creatures are looking for throughout Middle Earth. They have no leader, they are searching for one. They are searching the Heir of Sauron, the new leader of Mordor." All were silent. Then one of them said: "Are we going to believe in vague stories from shadowy times? Are we to take council in old women's talk?" It looked like another discussion would start when a soft, honeysweet voice said: "Now, now, let's not judge in advance. I've heard a legend only some days ago that tallies with this lore from older days." All turned their heads to look at the speaker. It was Ragnor. He first looked at Legolas, then at Gimli and finally his eyes turned to Thûlocuil. "So we meet again 'Master Warrior'." he mocked, "But you are a master indeed, having so much information that we, simple man, are not able to gather. You can draw us a map of the secret hiding places anytime we want. You no doubt have entered them yourself and slew a large number of orcs all by yourself. And the fact that you speak the Black Speech like a native, is just very convenient, isn't it?" Legolas went pale, one of his man had talked with this puffed up 'I'm the man'-general, whoever did that would have to justify himself! 

  
  


Thûlocuil did not even blink. "Well, like I told somebody not so long ago, I prefer to know my enemy instead of stupidly rush in. I do not want to think where my enemy is, what he is doing or why he does it, I want to know! I guess it's a Ranger-thing" Legolas did not know what to think. First it seemed like she was putting him coldly in his place, then she used, of all phrases, this one! Ragnor did not seem impressed. "Ah, yes, the mysterious ranger-elf-warrior identity. How strange that we did not hear from you during The War 'Master Warrior'. You are what, at least 2000 years old? Where were you during the war, you, who seem now so eager to lead good men to unholy places like orcslairs and dark and obscure holes? Where and how did you learn to speak that filthy language so fluently? Who taught you 'Master Warrior'?" Wrong question! Legolas thought. Thûlocuil got up, looked round the circle and said: "Twice I was stupid enough to try and reunite the people of Middle Earth against a rising darkness. I will not try again." She turned and walked away when Ragnor jumped from his chair and blocked her path. "Wait! You did not hear the legend I was talking about. Is your name not Thûlocuil? Breath of Life? Is it not Thûlocuil O'Môr? Or should I say: Sûmob Slaiumlob or even better: Sûmob Slaiumlob Mordôrob? It doesn't matter, it all means the same: Breath of life of MORDOR! And did not the Dark Lord himself call you so? Didn't he? Are you sure you're not the one they are looking for?" Thûlocuil looked him in the eyes, then without a word stepped past him and left. If Ragnor had accidentally set off one of Gandalf's famous fireworks inside the tent, the devastation would not have been greater nor would the racket.

  
  


* * *

No one noticed the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen slipping away. He knew where the horses were kept and there he sat down on the fence that kept them from wandering through the camp. He did not have to wait long. She had not taken any time to change and was still wearing the long, rust-coloured tunic she had worn to the meeting. She saddled her horse and hung her sword and a shield, it was a Gondorian one this time, Legolas noticed, on her saddle. Then she drew a breath, took one look at him and mounted.   
  


He took the reigns. "Tell me that it is not true." he said, looking at her. Her eyes wandered away from his face, towards the Morn Dant and the mountains. But she did not say anything. "Tell me!" Legolas repeated, his voice sounding desperate. "Tell me something, anything! Tell me this man was lying!" But she just sat in her saddle, quiet. Legolas bowed his head. He knew she uttered that name to the Uruk. Slowly his hand let go of the reigns. The horse began to move. When she was almost past him she whispered: "Bain men, Legolas; elin sílar am i meth o men." and with that she urged her horse into a trot.

  
  


[Fair road Legolas, may the stars shine upon the end of your road; the last part is from LOTR, FOTR chapter III]

  
  


*Menelvagor, the Swordsman of the Sky, is the constellation of stars that today is called Orion. 

  
  


A/N: Reviewers thank you so much!

Kalenniphredel: I too hope you find inspiration again. I really like to know how she will manage.

  
  


Es: Thanks for your review, glad you like it.

  
  


Albinofrog88: Thank you.

  
  


13 September 2003: changed some spelling.


	20. War raging

Disclaimer: I own a lot: a house, a cat, a car, my own imagination (YES!), the things I do not own outnumber this list easily. So...

  
  


I used again the wonderful pages of the Encyclopaedia of Arda (GREAT!!!), I was helped by The Dark Lord (himself, this is dangerous), but he was the only one who could tell me the length of His Road from the Barad-dur to the foot of Mount Doom, and of course I used my copy of LOTR. 

Although I try to stay faithful to the book, the comment from Gandalf when he chooses which way to go in Moria in the first movie is too good not to use.

On with the story...

  
  


Chapter 20 War raging...

  
  


All had fallen in place.

The rumours at the camp,

the fight with the Uruk,

the reason why she had 'lost' the host of Uruks,

why she could draw a map of their secret hiding places,

why she did not mind wearing a borrowed orc-garment,

why she knew where the orcs were going,

even why did she not wanted to tell him about her activities when they met in the White City.

  
  


The whole puzzle fitted if she was one of Sauron's allies. Or even his heir.

  
  


Only... when finished, the image on the puzzle did not fit the woman he had learned to know...

  
  


Legolas shifted without any sound into another crouching position. He heard the breathing of the men and when he concentrated he could also hear the almost soundless breathing of the elves that were sitting with him in the little cave inside the Ered Lithui. From here they could keep an ear and an eye on what they simply called 'The Mainroad on the Second Level'. It was the most used road by the orcs on this level. Legolas tried to determine where each of his men was by listening to their different breaths, but soon he drifted back to his thoughts.

  
  


From the moment she left, he had had this conversation with himself over and over again. Every time the conflict with the orcs would subside for a moment he tried to sleep but mostly...

He went over the same arguments, always coming to the now familiar point where he would sigh and just admit that he did not know. It almost seemed like his reaction towards her at the dinner in Minas Tirith had cast a shadow forward. "I do not want to think, I want to know..." and now all he could do was to think, and think and think again; knowing nothing for sure. One argument was undermined by another and he would get annoyingly frustrated, short-tempered and even grumpy. Things he publicly wrote on the conto of being around Gimli too long. But he knew that it was a meagre excuse, and so did his friend.

  
  


What about her eagerness to bring together an army to rout the vile creatures out?

So the orcs had the chance of killing them all at once? 

That did not make much sense. 

It would have been easier to kill all the generals one by one and it would have been easier if she would have let the orcs spread over all of Middle Earth.

And the terror in the face of the Uruk when she stated her name?

How would they have looked at Sauron once? Would that not have been in fear, like the Uruk had looked up to her?

But when looking at the Heir of Sauron, one would expect crouching submission, and that had not been in that look, anger had.

  
  


She had had more then one opportunity to kill him or his men... she had not acted on it.

Yet she might just have wanted to 'save' them for one big kill here in the mountains of Mordor; then again: that would not make much sense and was surely not the easiest way.

  
  


And what about her words that night in the marshes: "I had expected to be free... freedom is something I'll never have. It's just the same only the one who imprisons change..." 

  
  


What was she? A turncoat, a spy, an heir, a 'Master Warrior', a respected friend of Arwen, a prisoner, what?

  
  


Her voice gave the answer in his mind: "I am a warrior, and you'll just have to take my word for it that my intentions are to stop this new terror and since I'm able to aid your cause this time, I certainly will, no matter how, no matter where... "

  
  


The simple facts were that, as for now, only orcs had been slain and the casualties on their side were not worth mentioning. Thanks to the detailed map she left them and the suspicious turns of fate. Fate he did not trusted... and yet trusted...

  
  


Was it fate that sometimes they would find sketches on the walls, made with charcoal, as an addition to the map? Was it fate that wrote at other times information in the Tengwar characters (elvish)? Information about how many orcs or about a secret tunnel or cave that they could use or where their enemies hid? If that was fate then Legolas strongly suspected Fate to have long brown hair and brown eyes!

  
  


Suddenly he was yanked back to the here and now when there was a terrible loud noise. A rumble and the sound of falling rocks that travelled both through the air and through the stones, echoed its way through the caves and tunnels. Before it had died down the company of elves and men were on their way to its source. 

  
  


In the midst of a large cloud of dust they found the remainders of a group of Dol Amroth's soldiers. "Help us... We have to dig... the others!" one of them was shouting, already removing stones from what looked like a cave in. "Stop! Don't touch those stones!" Legolas shouted as more stones came tumbling down. "Don't you see, this pile is unstable, if you take away more stones, you'll just cause another cave in!? What happened?" he asked the man. "We were closing in on a band of orcs when suddenly the ceiling caved in, just out of nowhere! I think..." "Dîn! Silence!" a shout from one of the elves interrupted the man. "Lasto...[Listen...]" With their enhanced hearing the elves could faintly pick up cries from behind the rocks. Legolas's eyes widened: "Valar nuithar" he whispered [May the Valar not allow it to continue] and then he started giving rapid orders: "We have to rescue them quick! Six men get ladders or anything else that might serve as shores. I want Elves digging, please be aware of new cave ins! And you," he pointed to one of Dol Amroth's soldiers: "see if you can find Gimli, the dwarf!" The orders were carried out at once. The soldier, he had been talking to before they were interrupted, grabbed his arm: "My Lord, what did you hear? What is happening to my comrades?" Legolas sighed; he could see the fear in the man's eyes. But fear for the unknown tends to take enormous forms, so he answered: "They are under attack, I think this cave in was the result of some devilish plan of the orcs, it is a trap, I'm sorry" The soldier turned pale and then with a resolute face started moving the stones, that had been removed from the pile by the elves further down the tunnel. "We'll get to them! We'll get to them! We'll get to them!" Legolas heard him repeat again and again. 'And I do hope it will be in time,' he thought before joining him.

  
  


It took them several hours, Gimli had helped, but even he could not work magic and making a new and save entrance was a slow and precise job. In the last two hours no noises had been heard from the other site. They all feared the worst. Finally they cautious entered the cave. By the light of a torch they could see that the floor was scattered with bodies. "These are all corpses of orcs!" one of the elves shouted relieved. Another elf called for Legolas. "My Lord, here are two soldiers; they are unconscious and badly wounded, yet alive".

  
  


The two soldiers were transported to the healer's tents. No other soldiers were found in the cave, a more thorough search of the cave revealed some cleaved timber supports that had kept the ceiling from falling inward. There was another cave in at the other side of the cave. They started recovery-work again right away, knowing that the orcs probably left that way, taking their prisoners with them. 

  
  


During their first night of healing the two soldiers spoke in feverish dreams of a fierce warrior that had come out of the ceiling and who, with an irrepressible rage killed the majority of the orcs. The rest had fled before this 'god of vengeance'. Yet, when they regained consciousness, the next afternoon, they did not abandon their stories. One of them confessed to Legolas that for a moment he had thought that Tulkas (1) himself had materialized in the cave: "It is that I saw him take a blow, leaving a deep gash in his thigh. So I don't think it can be Tulkas, I don't believe that one of the Valar could be hurt by a simple orc-blade, now could he? Sir, I mean, you're an elf, I'm just relating to old stories I've heard about the Valar." Legolas did not know what to say. He had a pretty good idea of whom had come to the rescue of the soldiers.

  
  


From that moment on the rumours about a mysterious warrior increased. Some called it fate, some spoke of the ghost of a mighty warrior from the War of the last Allience that helped them. If nothing else, it did wonders for the moral of the troops. 

When some days later the missing men were found, tended to and well, the rumours went sky-high. A mysterious lady was said to have helped the injured and captured men. She only left moments before the others reached them, but a search produced nothing. The orcs were found later, dead of course. Legolas's own ideas about this 'Fate' were confirmed when one night one of the soldiers came to his tent and handed him a small piece of paper. "I swore that I would not tell a sole about this, and since I owe her my life... The only words I ever heard from her were: "Get this to Prince Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen," and with a nod the soldier left again. Gimli watched his friend as he slowly unfolded the paper. 

"Well, she is still alive..." was Legolas's only comment. He offered Gimli the note. It was in elvish, written with charcoal. "What does it say?" Gimli asked. "... no matter how, no matter where..." Legolas sighed. Gimli waited for more, when nothing more came, he urged his friend: "And?" "And nothing, there is nothing more," came the surly answer. Legolas started furiously throwing around things that were lying about: extra pieces of armour, maps, and clothes. Gimli let him be for a moment, then he cleared his throat: "If you're trying to tidy up this tent, don't bother, I've got an elf that does that every day, sometimes twice a day actually." The kind reference to their cherished different opinion on 'tidyness' made Legolas stop his actions and bent over the heavy cuirass of his friend he looked up at him and smiled. It was one of the saddest smiles Gimli ever saw. He could see his friend's heart break through it. "It's a part of a conversation we had," Legolas admitted, lowering himself and sitting beside the dwarf-cuirass. "She said then that she would aid us 'this time', 'no matter how, no matter where'". The elf closed his eyes shortly, he shook his head lightly and then seemed to gather himself. "Well, I'll leave this mess to your elf, I need to fight. I'll find a group that's going into the caves."

  
  
  
  
  
  


When the cave in incident happened the battle was already coming to an end. It took the allied troops not more then one week to rout the orcs out. Most were killed, some fled towards Khand and even further east. Days followed in which the generals formulated a treaty stating that the men of Rohan, Gondor and Ithilien would take turns watching the northern border of Mordor and make sure that form the Ered Lithui no threat would rise again. Their major concern remained 'the Heir of Sauron'. Finally they decided that all of them would search their libraries and other sources for information about this Heir. Legolas promised to ask his father about it and look for information in their Royal Library which now also contained the archives of Lothlórien. At this moment the last papers were being written in the different languages and already people started to get ready to return to their homelands. Gimli was writing on the dwarvish translation and since their language was a secret one, he did this in seclusion. So Legolas had come up with the plan of exploring a bit of Mordor. He had never actually been there. After the One Ring was destroyed and the realm of Sauron ended, they had retreated to the field of Cormallen, now was a good time to reward his curiosity or to go 'happy sand biting' as Gimli had disparaging called it.

  
  


So after weeks in the company of others, Legolas found himself alone, surrounded by the dust and sand of Mordor. For a wood-elf this bare and empty land was unimaginable. He saw nothing, nothing but just sand and rocks. It seemed like within a radius of several miles there was no living thing here. His mind was set on reaching Oroduin, once the Mountain of Doom. His trail was distinct, not by prints, as elves did not leave those. And for that matter: anyone could walk this dessert without leaving a single print: the sand would rush back into place, before you could turn your head to look at your footsteps. No it was the trail of dust he left that stood out quite clear against the nothingness on the plain. This only convinced him even more that there was nothing out there. His trail was the only one. 

  
  


He had been walking from Minuial (2) and all this time he had sensed no presence at all. The plains were deserted. Since the fall of Sauron nothing had lived here. The orcs had retreated to the mountains. The only reason they were once crossing these bare and hot plains had been Sauron's will. And when that was lost...

The absolute silence of this land enhanced the elf's senses. His outstanding abilities of hearing, seeing and even feeling were stretched because his mind could not comprehend the emptiness of this country. Still besides the light crushing sound of the sand under his feet, he could hear absolutely nothing. He halted, his deepened senses had picked up an ever so light rumble, a barely noticeable shiver went trough the earth and seemed to continue inside his body, through his fibula all the way up to the base of his neck. With a shudder Legolas tried to lose the awkward feeling of emptiness, darkness, loneliness of being smaller then the smallest grain of sand. Moving again, he looked up to the mountain, a hazy shape, vibrating in the already hot air. In spite of the fact that he had witnessed the downfall of Sauron first-hand, the site of mountain seemed to ooze a treacherous air. He had learned from Sam and Frodo just how close things had been. But for the unlikely creature Gollum the ring would have had its way and that way would have been right back to its Master; Sauron, the Lord of the Rings.

Although at the moment that the Ring was thrown back into the fires where it was forged the mountain had reeled, and almost exploded, in the years after it still had erupted now and again, the course of its lava only a bit altered by the huge rocks that had been tossed from the depths of the earth on 45 Echuir or 25 Rethe or 25 Súlimë (3). Legolas smiled. He was so used to converting the dates of the different calendars that he immediately thought not only of the date by the Reckoning of Rivendell, but also of the Shire Calendar and the Gondorion reckoning of time. He had to make an effort to find the date in the Dwarvish Calendar, since the Dwarves used a lunar calendar, based on the moon. It was a complicated system (4); it implied that a month like Echuir (the early spring month) would eventually end up during the last days of Firith (the late autumn month). The dwarves had a solution for this: they reset their calendar every year! It was really very complicated. But it kept Legolas mind busy for some time and that was welcome, since it would take his mind of his own troubles. Just when he found out that it probably would be 17 Adar (5), the foot he put down did not meet sand, nor rock, but nothing at all! Legolas had been walking at a considerable pace and his body kept moving forward; making him tumble down. In a reflex he rolled into a tight ball, like a hedgehog and painfully hit a rocky underground. Instantly a flash of sharp pain made him wince. In the same moment his whole body started to shove down a shaft. He bounced and was thrown from one wall to the other but finally he came to a sudden stop by crashing into a straight rock foundation. 

  
  
  
  


First Legolas listened, but when he heard nothing he slowly got up, checking every bone in the process. Nothing was broken, and his well-trained muscles ached not that much. 'Wait until tomorrow!' he thought with a grim grin. He looked up a long stairway and above him he saw a little white rectangle about the size of his hand. I've come a long way, he thought. He inhaled and was cast back into memories of Moria. The smell and taste of the air, foul and musty, caused his brain to make a link with that place. Legolas lit a small torch he got used to carry around during the 'Battle of the Caves', as some called this last routing out-party, and was surprised when the light from it was reflected by a thousand fluorescent stones in the walls. Legolas was used to his father's caves and on his travels with Gimli he had seen some extraordinary ones, but this took his breath away. As far as he could see the lights lingered on in soft blues, greens and reds. It was amazing to see that something that smelled, tasted and looked like a foul dungeon, looked so beautiful when seen in another light. He unsheathed one of his long knives and went down the corridor that was level here. He was surprised that he wanted to explore this orc-hole after all his time in the Ered Lithui and after his unnerving experiences in Moria. But the emptiness of the land above him was unnerving too and he had the feeling that he had to make sure that this hole was abandoned and safe: force of habit. 

It was not long until he came to a fork. In the right-hand passage there were only a few of the fluorescent stones and the air smelled fouler, while in the left-hand passage the blue stones turned the ground into a river that languidly curved. This confirmed Legolas's feeling that if the stones were part of this habitat, they were at least sometimes placed in certain patterns. 'Well, did not Mithrandir say: "When in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose"? So I shall follow my nose and eyes on this one' he thought as he went down the left-hand passage. Soon the path started to slope down again. To his surprise the air got better and better while the path went deeper and deeper. However he could not suppress the feeling that he should head back, maybe to return with Gimli and some men. He did not like the idea of spending the night down here. The feeling that he should return to the daylight again was growing and growing when in the walls there appeared black rectangles. 'No stones' Legolas thought. When he came nearer he saw that they were doors made of wood covered with cobwebs. There was no sign on the first one and it was firmly closed, he continued to the next one. But when the darkness again surrounded the first one, he saw red stones light up above the door. It was something in Cirth (6). With the torch held back Legolas made an effort to read the old runes. He concluded that it should be something like 'rhotk' or 'bodhl' or 'yonk'(7) And that did not get him any further, he supposed it was in the Black Speech. The three doors on the right all barred the same inscription. The inscriptions on the opposite doors were something like 'pizumu or pinjumhu'. At the end of the hallway there were two more doors, above the one on the left was 'maaukumru or maulhumjhu' in the same red stones. Above the right one were two words: 'shûmb shlhayûlmb'. When he came closer to inspect the two doors he immediately noticed the lack of cob webs on the right one. This door was of a different, reddish kind of wood and completely wiped clean. He stepped back and read out loud this time: "shûmb shlhayûlmb".

His words echoed through the hallway and when it came back it whispered: 'Sûmob Slaiumlob'.

  
  


A/N:

(1) Tulkas was the last of the Valar to descend into Arda. Since he battled with Melkor, I assumed that a fierce and angry warrior would mostly resemble him.

(2) The Sindarin name for the twilight of dawn, when the stars faded.

Based on the Map of Mordor in the Return of the King, it is roughly 30 miles from the Gate of Barad-dur to the foot of Mount Doom. (Thanks to the Ring Lord, the Dark Lord of Mordor)

(3) Its all the same date: 25 march 3019 Third Age; the day the One Ring was destroyed.

(4) Since a lunar year is only 345 days long it is eleven days short of a solar year. This means that if you use a fixed lunar calendar, a certain date would shift six months every seventeen years. This was overcome by using a flexible calendar; the Dwarves reset their calendar every year! Their year starts on 'the first day of the last moon of autumn'; the Dwarves find a point where the lunar and solar (seasonal) calendars coincide, and restart their calendar from that point.

(5) Since Tolkien based his culture of the Dwarves on the Jewish one, I took the liberty using 17 march 3019 (17 because 25 Renthe is 17 March) on the Jewish (lunar!) Calendar: 17 Adar.

(6) Cirth is elvish for Runes. In their older and simpler form they spread eastwards in the Second Age, and became known to many peoples, to Men and Dwarves and even to Orcs, all of whom altered them to suit their purposes. (From LOTR Appendix E (p. 1153 in my copy)

(7)Black Speech: yonk = general storage; pizumu = arms or weapons; maukumru = fighthall (training room). I used the Angerthas in Appendix E and looked at runes that looked like the ones that resembled the letters to make up the phoney words.

  
  


14 September 2003: the last (?) changes.


	21. Inside or insight

Disclaimer: Actually I own a lot in this chapter. I think just Legolas, Mordor and Sauron are Tolkien's. I put the description of the furniture together from the cultures of the Vikings, the Forbidden City in Beijing and that of the emperor Charlemagne. The Auryn is on lend from 'The never ending story' by Michael Ende.

  
  


21 Inside or insight.

"Sûmob Slaiumlob" the echo was whispering to Legolas.

What had first been just sounds he uttered when reading the orcish runes suddenly had a meaning. He moved his hand towards the door and without any effort it slowly and ghostly soundless swayed open. With all his senses heightened and the adrenaline rushing trough his body, the first glance he caught from what was in the room made him jump. Two giant red dragons, their mouths open wide, displaying an abundance of long sharp white teeth, stared at him with black eyes. Almost in the same moment as he trusted his long knife forward, Legolas realised that the eyes were dead, and the dragons a piece of art. 

  
  


A piece of art in Mordor? Curious and cautious he entered the room. The two dragons protruded forward from the foot of a bed. The footboard was formed by two mighty claws and the other foreclaws formed the legs of the bed. He walked further into the room, completely fascinated by the sight of the two mighty animals. In the light of his torch he saw the wings of the dragons that formed the sides. In one fluid curve they continued in the headboard constituted by the two enormous tails of the dragons, intertwined together. The two tails ended in triangle-points. 

  
  


Dragons were considered dangerous and foul animals in Middle Earth. Which made it even more amazing that Legolas did not feel any aversion. Carefully he laid his hand on one of the tails, following its curve back to the head. It was wood, highly skilled carved and coated with red lacquer. It was beautiful! Slowly Legolas released his breath, he had not been aware of holding it. He looked around. 

  
  


There was no other door then the one he had come through. There was a wooden chest, with two stained double doors. Inside it he could see some clothes. The doors of the chest were beautifully carved representing, again, dragons. The sides were decorated with inlayed dark stones in geometric forms. One wall held eight shelves, full of books. The shelves were supported by shelf brackets that once again ended in the heads of dragons. 

  
  


Legolas was astonished; everything was beautiful, not like works of art from Rivendell or Minas Tirith, not elvish, but more like... like Mordorish? Was it possible that Mordor could produce anything only remotely not-ugly? Yet here was this room, filled with works of genuine art: attractive, practical and bold. No elf, man or dwarf would choose a dragon as a motif; this was unlike anything he had ever seen from this unholy land or, for that matter unlike anything he had ever seen anywhere. It was a room fit for a prince... a king... an heir... 

  
  


Irritated he shook his head at that last thought and turned his attention back to the rest of the room. There was a wooden folding screen, made of three panels. It had an intriguing geometric pattern of rectangles in rectangles in rectangles in... it went on and on forever. Against it were pieces armour. Legolas recognized the strange mixture and sighed. On a sword rack against the wall next to the folding screen, he recognized her sword among an impressive collection of various others. Yes, this must be her refuge. 

  
  


When he walked towards the folding screen he became aware of a light gargling sound. It reminded him of water running over a stone river bed. Moving cautious he looked behind the screen and saw a passage in the wall. After all this time of dry air his skin was suddenly aware of warm moisture emerging. The passage led to a corridor with a channel inside. A channel full of streaming water! Water in an abundance he could not comprehend in the middle of this dessert. This room kept amazing him! The stream was not wide; one could easily step over to the other side. He squatted down and let the water stream over his hand; it was warm and nice. The gargling sound was made where the flow bumped into two stone steps that lead into the water. There was a greenish liquid in a bowl on the ground near the steps. Legolas smelled: soaproot-extract. Across the channel was some laundry hanging from a double clothesline that was looped around two pullies, one on each side of the stream. The clothes felt wet. Legolas returned to the room. Everything here spoke of recent use: the soaproot-extract near the bath, the wet clothes on the line, an open book on the bed... He took a look at the book; it was left open on the first page. There was an inscription, the first two lines were in runes but to Legolas's surprise the last two were in Tengwar: Sindarin!

  
  


Sûmobslaium-izub-ûr narmok-izg

ukû tul... Sauron

  
  


An nîn melui Sûmobslaium

Uireb darthol... Sauron 

  
  


[To my beloved Breath of Life 

Always waiting... Sauron*]

  
  


Legolas felt like his world shatter at that very moment.

  
  


What was she? Sauron's lover? Sauron's child? With a sigh he sat down on the bed. He was done thinking, he had the feeling all his thoughts had come to a stand still. Did anything matter anymore? However, what ever the state of his mind, his ears picked up another sound above that of the gargling water. He turned his head toward its source; it came from behind a tapestry on the wall. On it was an image of Auryn: two snakes that intertwine and bit in each other's tails; each snake forming an infinity symbol. He had seen it when he went through the room, the colours of the snakes, silverish and black, obviously stood for good and evil. He had not spent too much thought on it before. 

  
  


Legolas held his ear against the tapestry. He could hear a soft murmur, he pressed his ear against the fabric to hear better but the fabric gave under his pressure! There was nothing behind it! Cautious Legolas pushed the tapestry aside and, like he expected, there was a hidden corridor behind it. On entering he could see a little light at the end. The murmur was much clearer here. It was a monotone sound, like only one person was talking and it did not sound harsh like the Black Speech. Smothering his torch, he started down the corridor. This one was going steeply down again and there were no fluorescent stones on the walls. It took him only fifty feet to reach the light. Here the corridor curved lightly. With his knives ready he slowly rounded the bend.

  
  


She was sitting down on her knees, her back to him. She was wearing a white long tunic, with a wet mark on it, formed by the moist from her braid. The sight of her, not so clean, bare feet, peaking out from under it made him smile. She was speaking softly in Sindarin. It sounded like a mantra. The shadow on the wall told him that she was holding her hands up as if blowing the words into them and then reaching them out to the rocky underground, turning them most careful and placing them on the earth. 

  
  


"Suilannad cae,

matho in belain erui anna enni,

adannon an cae.

  
  


Matho i nestadren gail annon an cae,

sogach o nîn celu uin gail,

o pân thûl thuion."

  
  


[Hail earth,

feel the powers that you gave to me,

how I return them to you.

  
  


Feel the healing light that is offered to you

drink from my source of light,

from every breath that I exhale.]

  
  


As if hypnotised Legolas looked at her and felt his heart being drawn to this creature of doom and hell, this alley of Sauron. How could she be what they said and utter these words? She was what her name said she was: Thûlocuil, Breath of life, she was literally breathing life back into this land... and into his heart.

  
  


For Thûlocuil this was an often performed ritual. Since she long ago took the decision to stay alive in this place, buried in the earth, she closed some kind of pact between Arda and herself. The contact with the earth kept her alive and this 'life breathing'- ritual was her way of returning that gift. This was how it had been for all those long years. 

Like always she had tuned her senses toward the all-surrounding earth, trying to sense life in it. Suddenly she stirred. Could it be? This was definitely life she sensed. But it was not the earth; what was this life form? With her mind she delicately tossed this spirit around and saw woods and battles, kings and fires, the Fellowship and... herself?! Sitting just like she did now: almost radiating light. It felt like warm water engulfed her. With a shock she recognized this life form: Legolas!

  
  


"Legolas?"

  
  


*literally translated the Black Speech says:

For my Breath of life I like

eternal here... Sauron

  
  


and the Sindarin says:

For my lovely Breath of life

eternal waiting... Sauron 

  
  


**literally translated:

Hail earth,

feel the divine powers first give to me,

I give back to earth.

You drink from my source of the light

Feel the healing light I give to earth,

from all breath I breathe.


	22. Get to know

Disclaimer: I don't.... I will not... I have no intention to... etc. etc.

  
  


22 Get to know...

  
  


Legolas stood stock-still, very slowly he released his breath. It had felt like when Galadriel, had tested him in his mind in Lothlórien all those years ago. Like then he felt a bit weary, like he had been questioned for a long time, but unlike then he felt like a warmth has left him and he suddenly felt cold and abandoned. He shivered.

  
  


She was still sitting with her back to him when he said: "So it is true, you live here in Mordor".

He could see she sighed by the movement of her shoulders. She got up and turned. Through the translucent white cloth he barely noticed a bandage on her thigh. 'So my presumption that she was the 'god of vengeance' at the cave in was right too.' He sheathed his knives.

She looked puzzled at him first, as if deciding what to tell and then said: "Yes, but do not talk of that here. I'll come with you to the room."

She picked up a little lantern and started towards him when he asked: "What were you doing?"

She stopped again and looked around in the small cave before she said: "I was returning to earth what it once gave to me: life."

  
  


There was a silence. Then he whispered, enchanted by the serene image in front of him: "Thûlocuil: Breath of life..." She smiled. "Well I'm trying to be but..."she gazed pensively at him and slowly said: "So many colours of green, so many trees, so many spirits..." Then she laughed and continued: "I bet if I had managed to draw blood on that training field in Ithilien, it would have been green, Legolas, Greenleaf!" A quick grin crossed his face as he said: "Ìf you had managed..."

She smiled back at him as if to say 'you just wait and see...' and then became serious again: "Would you... you could, I know you could... I mean, you have those wonderful green images in your mind..." she started to talk faster, "I did not mean to - just now - you know - I was just trying to sense life... here..." She gestured around and held him with her eyes for a moment and then said: "You would be able to help. Would you do that Legolas?"

  
  


How could he refuse? His thoughts had strayed down every imaginable path these last few weeks and he was tired of it. He had now literally strayed down this new path and found her at the end of it. There was no question about him helping.

  
  


"What do you want me to do?" he said.

Her smile was the best reward he could dream of even before he had done anything.

"Just place your hands on the walls and think of the loveliest site of nature, of all the colours of green that you have seen in your life."

Without taking his eyes from her face he reached for the wall. Then he closed his eyes and started thinking. It was easy; being a wood-elf: thousands of years of woods, forests, plains, plants and trees simply welled up in him. 

  
  


Thûlocuil watched him as he stood there; he looked carefree and completely trusting. Not even a frown of concentration was on his face, no, this was a face she would not have thought he possessed: at ease and with a slight smile playing on his lips. How many people had ever seen this face? Not many, she thought and with that thought came another one: the feeling she had witnessed when she had peeked around in his mind. She blushed and averted her look. When she felt that her face had returned to its normal shade again, she touched his arm and motioned to the room.

  
  


When they entered the room she lit six lanterns that were hanging from two little dragons, made of black stone. The mouths of the animals were constructed against the ceiling and from their claws and tails the lanterns were hanging, made of iron. The sides were formed by runes and through them the light fell. Legolas noticed that all lanterns had three couples of the same runes; thus forming hexagons.

  
  


"It reads 'ghaash'" she said when she followed his gaze, "it simply means 'fire'." She turned her gaze back to him and said: "Thank you Legolas, for what you just did." "It was not difficult." he replied. "I envy you wood-elf!" she said teasingly and then suddenly continued: "You must have some questions and you deserve some answers..."

  
  


Legolas heart leaped up! Here he had been trying to get some answers in any possible way and now... Would it be this easy? Hardly perceptible he gave a small nod. Thûlocuil went on: "Can you promise me that you won't tell anyone about this place? Not even your king? Can he not force you to do so?" "Tell me this," Legolas answered: "Do you plan on invading Gondor, Eryn Lasgalen, Ithilien or any other kingdom, principality or realm intending to annex it? Or do you plan to organise the orcs or to breed any other foul race? If your answer to these questions is 'no' then my king can not and my father will not force me. So, are your intentions any of these things?" "No!" came her immediate answer, "but what if I am the Heir of Sauron Legolas? He and I have far more in common then you think..." 'Like Mordor for a home and the wish for life in Mordor' she thought. He answered her: "Still, your answer is negative, so I can and will herewith promise you not to tell anyone about this place." After one last hesitation she said: "Well, bring on the questions!" 

  
  


Legolas followed her with his eyes when she closed the doors of the chest, moved on to bed and sat down on it. She motioned to the chest for Legolas to sit down on. He did. "Well," he started so many questions and so afraid to blow it again, he thought. "For starters: where does the water come from? This being a desert..." "There is water in every desert Legolas, it is simply a question of a way to find it and collect it. I know it comes from somewhere nearer to Orodruin for its temperature." she answered. "Where does it run to?" was his next question. "It runs to the ruins of Barad-dûr." That name and especially the unconcern with which she mentioned it made him feel uncomfortable.

  
  


He moved on to a completely different question, one he had been longing to ask: "Have you ever been to Eryn Lasgalen?" She smiled: "Yes, once, only briefly, I travelled a day through the southern part of it. I don't have 'green' in my blood like you do Greenleaf! And... I'm rather..." she was searching for the right word, "...hesitant to come into contact with other elves. I was afraid to be found out and of their judgement." "But you know elves!" Legolas sounded surprised: "You know Arwen." "I did not know who she was when I met her," Thûlocuil explained: "that attracted her, I think." "Was Arwen the first elf you met?" She nodded, Legolas could not believe it: "Were you not afraid of her 'finding you out' or of her 'judgement'?" Thûlocuil smiled: "No, Arwen is a princess, not brought up to fight. She and Aragorn gave me a feeling that maybe one day there would be a place for me." This time it was Legolas's turn to smile: "Yes, thrust Estel to give you a feeling of home. He has first hand experience with that." Thûlocuil continued: "They do not ask such difficult questions. They are satisfied with vague answers," the look in her eyes was clearly accusatory. 'Unlike me' Legolas thought. She continued: "I owe them a lot; they gave me a profession when I came out of here." That had already roused Legolas's curiosity: the fact that she had and still could seemingly effortless leave and re-enter Mordor. "How did you do that?" he asked: "Aragorn's men were here then." "Well, they were merely watching the borders," she answered, "To my surprise they could not hear me when I could hear them." Legolas arched his brow: "You're an elf, they are human," yet he was not ready for her simple reply: "I did not know that back then." He was devastated by the meaning of her words. 'She survived. This, Him... how many years?' he thought. "You are an elf, why did you not return to your realm?" but then again, maybe she did not even know her realm. As if she could follow his thoughts Thûlocuil answered in a defendant tone: "I do know my realm of origin and I do know my father's name." "But, any father will take you back!" He jumped up and started pacing the room. "Any realm would surely have given you a home again." He suddenly came to a full-stop: "Unless..." She finished his sentence for him: "Unless they were not there anymore." Legolas turned and faced her: "But if your people have passed away, then know that the realm of Eryn Lasgalen is open to any elf now. Since Elrond and the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien sailed into the west..." Thûlocuil sighed: "Ah! Lothlórien: I've been there. You can still feel the magic of the Lady present. I could feel it in the earth and smell her in the air. Even the waters there still speak of a great loss since the Lady went away. I've collected seeds there for years, but they will not grow here. You were there when the Lord and Lady were still present, were you not Legolas?"

  
  


His eyes seemed to be overtaken by a greenish glow for a moment: "Lórien, ned nîn gûr i rîn o amle malthen glad. [Lórien, in my heart (is) the remembrance of its golden wood] There are no trees like the trees of that land! (2) The Lady kept the land save from evil, using the power of her ring" "Yes, I could sense the ring that once was present there." He was yanked out of his golden dream by her words. Astonished he uttered: "You could sense Nenya?" Careless she answered: "Yes, like I sensed Narya and Vilya (3). Like I sensed all the rings, like I sensed the One Ring too, like he sensed them." "Sauron was no elf," Legolas mumbled. "Can you still sense the rings Legolas?" "No, I never could." "So it is nothing elvish then..." she looked disappointed.

  
  


For a moment they were silent, each with their own thoughts. "Did you... 'like' Sauron?" Legolas found it oppressive to use the words 'like' and 'Sauron' in one sentence. Thûlocuils words were not spoken with anger, rather with resignation: "He betrayed and killed my people. He killed my father. He took me away from everything I knew. Sometimes I blame him for what my life has become. Then again, mine is not a bad life. Sauron was the one who gave me a change to live; he kept the orcs from torturing me. He kept me alive; made sure I was taken care of. He gave me this room; he let me learn how to fight... He was my care-taker. He hoped I once would follow in his footsteps... Maybe I am his heir. He was thrilled that I lived where the others had died."

  
  


"The others?" Legolas felt like he was falling from one nightmare into another. Thûlocuil looked up at him: "There were elflings here before me Legolas. They died. They were older then I was when I came here." Legolas felt sick to his stomach when he understood: "They could not live in the darkness. They missed their parents, their people." He sat down again. Fearing the answer to his question, but knowing that he had to know, he asked: "What became of them?" Thûlocuils voice was pitiful when she said: "I learned from the orcs, I was not supposed to know it, but I know that some committed 'azuga-ul', I don't know the right word in Elvish, it means they killed themselves, others just 'fûsh-matuga'," she had to think for a moment: "They slow-died, like... withered away?" Legolas nodded: "They died of a broken heart." "Are we really such a weak people?" she asked to his surprise. "Weak?" he answered: "Weak? We live eternally; we can run for days without getting tired, we fight like no other race..." But she countered him: "Do you truly think those strong things? Is not the man who is exhausted and still goes on much stronger? Do they not achieve much more in their short amount of given time than we do in the same amount?" "You took to mankind rather than to elves, did you not?" Legolas observed: "In a way you resemble them." He had not expected her to become annoyed, yet she did: "How is that possible?" Her voice sounded harsh: "I could not resemble anybody. I knew quickly enough that I was no orc and they were the only other people I saw. I also did not resemble the frog that once came along with the water." She swallowed. 

  
  


Pensively Legolas said: "You were one of a kind" "No, not 'of a kind'. I simply was..." she was clearly agitated and Legolas completed her sentence: "...one. You simply were one." He looked at her again; her eyes matched the anger that had been in her voice. He had to be careful, he had learned more about her in this past half hour then ever. "Who named you?" he asked. "Sauron did," she replied, "It was the name all of his 'dik-hai', 'captured people' bared. But they took that name from me when they took the frog away. I had been hiding it for almost two months. When they took it away, they took my 'breath of life' from me." She fell silent; the light went from her eyes, as if she was wrapped in a dark memory. "That was the day I decided to die." She sighed and then continued: "But I could feel the rings, I could feel the power of Nenya and through it the will of its maker; begging me to not give up." Her eyes became wet. And suddenly Legolas comprehended: "Nenmírdan!" he whispered. "You were a child of Eregion? (4) When you said that you had no people to return to I assumed they sailed into the West. But they..." 

  
  


Then he saw her eyes. The horror they were radiating was so strong that he sharply inhaled. With terror in his voice he stated: "He took you then. He took you when he finished that realm." 'A melamin, nîn gûr bretha an le!' [Oh, my love, my heart breaks for you] he thought. He continued with disbelief in his voice: "And you think us a weak race? When one of its children survives all this?" "I could not do it," she whispered, her eyes cast down, "I could not end my life, for I would end not only mine but theirs too, irrevocably!" she seemed lost in time, then shuddered and went on: "So, I decided to live. I learned to fight and to read. I learned the Black Speech and I closed my pact with the earth: I drew strength from it; it became my other care-taker." Suddenly she looked at him again: "Tell me Legolas: you are a wood-elf; are there any earth-elfs?"(5)

  
  


"No, not that I heard of," he said. Her head dropped and quickly he recovered: "No wait, I'm wrong," he bent towards her and took her hand in his, "Yes... I heard of... one." Thûlocuil looked at him and smiled, highly aware of his hand on hers. "How do I resemble mankind?" she asked. "It's in the way that you look around you. Like all is new to you. But then, it is to you!" he discovered. "Do you know your age?" he asked. "Yes, I'm 4793 years old, I was five when I came here (6)" Legolas eyes opened wide with astonishment: "You were five years old, but that means you were here for 4765 years!" Thûlocuil could barely hear him mutter under his breath: "'A weak race' she says..."

  
  


"Did you ever go back?" came his next question. "To Eregion?" He nodded. "Yes, there is nothing there any more. The spirits of fire, water and earth are weaker there then anywhere else in Middle Earth. I think they abandoned that place. And yet... it has more life than my home." She could feel the muscles in his hand go rigid and his eyes narrowed. She retrieved her hand and said: "This is my home Legolas. You might despise of it but I've lived here all those years and it feels RIGHT." Softer she repeated: "This is my home." 

  
  


Again Legolas changed the subject, afraid that he would spoil her mood of candour: "When did you find out there where more elves?" This time Thûlocuil got up from the bed, she started towards the bookshelves. Legolas followed her with his eyes. "Rather quickly," she answered: "People recognized me as one. So then I knew. And I read a lot... I started that here, only here I had only these books," she gestured, "I know them all by heart! I learned to read the Cirth, Tengwar; Sindarin and Quenya, and Khuzdul..." At that last language Legolas sat up straight: "You read Khuzdul?" Thûlocuil studied his face. "Yes," she said: "is that strange?" "It is a secret language, I don't... nobody but the dwarves speak it!" "I do not speak it, I just read it," Thûlocuil pointed out to him. "It does not matter: nobody but the dwarves can read it either!" he said. Thûlocuil shrugged her shoulders: "I seem to do a lot of things nobody does: live here, wear anybody's armour; yes I understood the looks Legolas: I never thought it's not just to keep you from harm! I fight while being a woman, I'm a ranger while being an elf... and you could probably add to that list."

Legolas smiled and started to count on his fingers: "Well, for starters..." he raised his forefinger: "you wear velt." She arched a brow. "Hobbits wear velt," he said. "It's practical, but please, do go on..." she encouraged him. He raised his middle finger: "You train on bare feet!" "You should keep in touch with earth, especially when practising: it helps to draw your energy body fully into your physical body..." she commented. "And..." he said, raising his ring finger. But she interrupted him: "No, wait a moment: when did you see me practise, I was wearing boots in Minas Ithil?" she looked at him. Legolas felt a heat creep to his cheeks: "I saw you train in Minas Tirith," before she could say anything he wriggled his tree fingers and said: "And you use that slow-motion technique for training!" 'And I could add 'capturing my heart' to this list' he thought. Thûlocuil had been waving her finger at him, like a parent to an impish elfling, but now she asked astonished: "You mean you don't?" and when Legolas slightly shook his head she asked him: "Is this because you're a wood-elf?" "No, I never saw anyone do anything like that on any training- or battle field. Why do you do it?" She was still shaking her head in disbelieve when she summed up. "It helps to circulate the energy within the body, your health and vitality enhances, it gives one a calm and tranquil mind while you focus on the precise execution of the exercises. You're sure that nobody..." "I have not seen all of Middle Earth yet, but I'm pretty sure" Legolas answered. "Well," she said with determination: "I stopped thinking I did strange things a long time ago. If I was just 'one' it made sense that everything I did would be 'not like another'; or, one might say, everything I did would be like... well, like me." He looked at her, standing across the room; looking confident and extremely able of defending herself, like she had looked when confronted with the man Ragnor and he had to conclude that the items of this list did fit. These were the pieces that made up a puzzle that fitted her! 

  
  


"So Sauron provided you with food? What do you eat now then?" he asked. She was startled: "Forgive me, for I've been a poor host so far. Would you like something to eat? But maybe..." she looked him up and down. "Would you like to freshen up first? I can't remember any hot baths on the Batlle Plain or in the Ered Lithui. And..." she laughed. "I even have a nice, clean smock just about your size!" 

  
  


* * *

After a really great bath Legolas was sitting on one side of the bed, opposite Thûlocuil. On a cloth between them were the remainders of a meal. 'Yonk' had actually been the right word above the doors on the right and it meant 'storage'. The rooms behind them contained a large amount of dried food. "It's a desert, you don't want to run out of 'stock'" Thûlocuil had explained. The left doors were 'pizumu' or 'armory'; the door next to her room was the 'maukumru' or fight-hall, where she used to train. Now they had eaten and he looked at her. She really thought of this place as a home, it was obvious from the way she moved: at ease and not on her guard; like he had come to know her. He could not help that the words home and Mordor were two opposite notions to him. He had to try: "Come with me to Eryn Lasgalen." She even looked more startled then he had imagined her to. "They will condemn me," she said. "Did Arwen?" he countered. "No, but..." Legolas cut in: "That's because she sensed what I should have sensed; what I did sense and think: You are not evil." 

"But..." she uttered. "But I was not satisfied with merely thinking. I wanted to know, hear it from you," softer he added: "But now..." "But now I can not confirm your thoughts," she sat up straight and continued: "I've lived here for more than 4500 years. This is my earth, my home... I'm not so sure if I would have been such a hero during the War. I did not try to escape. I simply survived, nothing more." "Nothing less! You were five years old and you managed to survive this darkness for 4765 years on your own. And I do mean that literally and figurative." She had averted her head. "Listen to me Thûlocuil, sometimes a hero does nothing else than 'simply' survive. The Pelanor Fields have taught me that." She was still not looking at him. 

  
  


"Did he know you were trying to bring back life to Mordor?" he asked, changing the subject once more. "No," at least she was still answering his questions, "I did not see him after the War of the Last Alliance and later, after the War of the Ring I sensed him no longer. Then the orcs went away and I followed the stream to Barad-dûr. I told you it can be done, but it is not without danger." "Surely not back then!" he added.

  
  


"I can not come with you Legolas, you yourself had had a hard time believing what I am and where I'm from. How many elves will be willing to go through that amount of trouble? By the Valar, I do not even know who I am!" She looked at him for some time, sighed and then with a tired voice said: "Please, leave and forget."

  
  


Legolas felt that there was no more. No more room for questions, no more room for begging her to come with him. Finally he said: "You are the image on the puzzle made from the pieces of your life. You are what you are: Thûlocuil; Breath of Life. I'll leave and keep my promise, but my offer stands: you are welcome in my realm anytime. As the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen I guarantee your safety there." 

  
  
  
  


(1) If you are interested: I think 'ghaash' is spelled with the runes nr. 21, 49 and 15 from appendix E The Angerthas.

  
  


(2) I literally used the words of Tolkien here: it is in LOTR, FOTR chapter VI 'Lothlórien'. In my copy on page 353. I also rephrased the words from Legolas on page 356 of the same chapter.

  
  


(3) The Three Rings of the elves: the rings of air fire and (of course) water.

  
  


(4) Nenmírdan means watersmith. He is the elf who forged Nenya. He is one of my own characters. He was introduced in chapter 16. He was one of the smiths of Eregion, the elvenland west of Khazad-dûm. The elves of Eregion were unequalled smiths. Sauron, disguised as Annatar, the Lord of Gifts, taught them secrets to enhance and refine their craft. With this knowledge the elves of Eregion forged the Rings of Power. Only, Sauron betrayed them making The One Ring in the fires of Mount Doom. In the year 1697 of the second age, he destroyed Eregion.

  
  


(5) In the second movie the followers of Sauron say: Za dashu snaku Zigur, Durgbu nazgshu, Durgbu dashhu! = Hail, Sauron, Lord of the Rings, Lord of the Earth. This was after I thought this up! It just fits so well.

  
  
After a some research about elves and their development. I've decided that they do not develop different from human children. Their do not grow so fast, but they do learn the same things in their first five years. I think that puberty will come when they are between 30 and 40. (I read that elves where mature at 50). So five years of age is five years of age.   
  


14 September 2003: I just changed some bits.

  
  



	23. Two legends and an assumption

Disclaimer: I do not own what I do not own.  
  


Chapter 23 Two legends and an assumption  
  


Thranduil was looking at his son who was returning from this morning's archery training with a group of five novices. All warriors were deployed in the training of new ones and being a prince was not seen as a reason for exception. Thranduil smiled, if it would be one it would, in fact, be fairly difficult to try and explain that to Legolas.  
  


In thought he stared at the young elves. Legolas was home again and yet... Like in the past it was not all of Legolas that was home. Still it was different then before. No, not 'it' was different, his son was different. Sometimes in the last days it was like Legolas was not home at all yet at other times he was 'more' here then before. He was more aware of the other people in his proximity. More friendly towards them, more patient with the protocol... It was like there was just more Legolas. The sad look in his eyes was gone, replaced by an eager one. A look that resembled the one that had been on his face when he had sent Legolas to the Council of Elrond: ready, eager to explore, to fight and to conquer. But this time the look was more mature, like one who knows that for each fight there is a price to pay... Only somehow, by the looks of it, more like one who knows what price there is to win!  
  


More Legolas, more captain to a king... "Is there something else I should know?" he had asked Legolas from his throne after he had given an account of the 'Battle of the Caves'. "No, my King, there is nothing more that is of importance to the safety of this realm." had been the answer. Open face, eyes completely honest and yet... there was more in those eyes. For a moment they were softened, overtaken by... by what?   
  


He had tried just once more: "And besides its safety?" "I don't remember anything else but the safety of the realm and my alliance to its king in my oath of honour as a captain, my Lord and King." This reply blocked, more than effectively, this way of getting an answer. It was a formal answer fit for a formal inquiry: such as this one and it over-politely ended that inquiry.  
  


But there was more, yet not for a king to hear. Maybe there was more for a ...  
  


"Adar?" [Father]. Thranduil looked up and smiled: more son to a father! Legolas was standing next to him; some slightly wet hairs told Thranduil that his son had had a quick fresh-up. "Yes?" "Adar, the nedhmadel [lit.: middle eating = lunch] is ready, are you coming?"   
  


During their nedhmadel they talked about the progress of the novices and the integration between the elves of former Lothlórien and those of former Mirkwood. Now they had eaten and were finishing their drinks and Thranduil was determined on trying to get something more out of his son. "So, my son, tell me about 'The Battle of the Caves'; there must be more to tell your father over lunch then there is to tell a king while giving account. Legolas nodded, "Well there is one thing that bothers me, Adar." Thranduil took one last sip of his drink and Legolas refilled his father's mug and then his own. He continued: "Had you ever heard of this 'Heir of Sauron' before I told you of it?" and answered: "Yes I did, just slightly different." "Would you tell me Adar, please?" That last word was to prevent Thranduil from going on about the battle.  
  


Thranduil took another sip before he started: "Well, it's not a long story. It is a variation on the one that was told in the days of Melkor; after all, Sauron was, in a way, his heir. The legend merely revolves around the hopeful idea that Sauron could be banished for ever. It tells us that Sauron knew this and for this reason he would have another being ready to inherit his power and his realm, if this moment would ever occur. It is strange, for beings like Melkor and Sauron are so power-mad that they are not likely to tolerate anyone next to them. Therefore, it is told, they probably choose one of their servants to be their 'Heir'. The legend further tells us that the position of this 'Heir' was not to be envied: power-mad persons do tend to let that madness overtake their, already not so sane, mind. But on the other hand: if Sauron killed his heir, he would endanger the future of Mordor itself... and that's all there is to tell," Thranduil finished.  
  


"Do you believe it, Adar?" Legolas asked. His father thought for a brief moment and then said: "Well, I've seen a bit too many falls and resurrections of the Dark Lord in my life. However: I do believe the One Ring destroyed, and now that most of his followers are killed, with not a few we have you to thank for..." He smiled, trying to lead the conversation back to suit his own goals, but seeing the expecting look on his son's face, he added: "I just think that it is what it is Legolas; a legend, nothing more, nothing less."  
  


Silently Legolas nodded: "Well, I'll make my way to the training field and start the afternoon session, bain nedharad Adar." He got up and left the dining hall.  
  


"Bain nedharad, nîn ior" [Fair noon, my son] Thranduil followed him with his eyes; judging by the distracted look in his son's eyes, the afternoon session was not the first thing on his mind.  
  


* * *

It had been three weeks since Legolas returned from the Morn Dant and tonight one of his father's counsellors was joining them for dinner. Camlanndir, was not only one of Thranduil's counsellors but also a friend of the family. The conversation was vivid and flowed from one subject to another. At a certain point it got to 'good versus evil'.   
  


"Well, I just think that it's not like all evil has left this world with Sauron," Camlanndir stated, "and now there is this talk about an Heir... I don't know..." He took some grapes from the fruit bowl that accompanied the dessert. Thranduil answered: "No one will state that all evil left Middle Earth when Sauron did; it's just like you said: 'No good without evil'. I'd like to add: hence, no evil without good." "Right, right," Camlanndir countered: "But Sauron was evil in evil. No good nowhere around there!"  
  


"Are you sure?" Legolas suddenly asked. Both his father and Camlanndir turned their heads to him and stared. When he found his voice back Cammlandir uttered: "Do you, who was part of the Fellowship doubt that?" Legolas heard the suspicion of madness dripping from his voice. "Well," he said, trying to explain: "Like my father just said: 'no evil without good'. I have not met Sauron in person; I don't know him that well..." This explanation was not going anywhere good, that was obvious from the looks on Cammlandir's face. "I was just theorising." Legolas ended unsure. Complete silence.   
  


Thranduil looked at his son, maybe I just caught a glimpse of what is 'more', he thought. He cleared his throat: "It is not that strange and it has been thought before." Cammlandir finally turned his head away from Legolas to look at Thranduil. "Are you referring to the legend of the 'Gadorben'? [Prisoner]" he furrowed his brow: "Mmm, I've always put that story aside as a way to keep little elflings from behaving badly..." Thranduil reacted: "Yes, that's how most people think of it." Legolas had recovered and curiously questioned: "The legend of the Prisoner? I don't think I know that one. Is it in our library?"  
  


And once again saved by a legend, Thranduil thought, one of these days my son, a legend will not be so close at hand and then... Cammlandir swallowed another grape and said: "I hope it is not in your library, it is a load of old twaddle, I'll tell you! Still, it is a nice story..." Legolas pushed his chair a bit backwards and said: "You should tell it then, we are finished and it is time to tell and sing..." When Thranduil with a nod agreed, Cammlandir started:  
  


"As you know Illúvatar, the Father of All, created Manwë Súlimo and Melkor (2) together. Herein lays the inevitable union between good and evil. Now it is told by travellers and wanderers that whereas Illúvatar created the good that enabled the evil, or the evil that enabled the good; later 'evil spirits' had to create their own 'good spirits'. There are some horrifying stories about evil spirits eating good ones alive, but those will have to wait. The one about the Gadorben, is a rather recent one, compared to the others. It is said that the Dark Lord Sauron enhanced his evil by keeping within his reach something as pure and good as he was impure and evil. It is told that the elves he captured were meant for this purpose; however stories of torture do contradict this. The theory that evil needs good to exist is thought true; for how do you know something is evil if you can not compare it to something not-evil, that is: to something good." Cammlandir paused. Legolas felt nauseated, what better suited for that purpose than young elflings?   
  


"However..." his father continued, "this legend is not solid: we all knew Sauron was evil, we called him 'evil' in comparison to what we think is good. There you have the 'evil' and 'good' from our point of view. We do not need an 'evil prisoner' to be able to be good. Did Sauron need one in order to be evil? And, and this is my chief objection, did Sauron felt he was 'evil'? I, for one, do not think so. He wanted power and gaining that was not an evil thing to do, I think, from his point of view. If he did not think he was evil, he would not have any need for a 'good prisoner'."  
  


"Precisely why I think it a lot of nonsense," Cammlandir said. "But the older ones, they are a lot of fun to tell." He grinned: "Oh, yes, there are a lot more stories about evil and good spirits battling..."  
  


* * *

Yes, there had been more, more, rather horrifying legends but no more of Legolas's attention, Thranduil thought, as he walked to his private quarters. He was still convinced there was something more, but Legolas was not giving him anymore. He sighed. He knew, he should just talk to his son - like a father to a son - but he had tried that in the past few weeks and all he ended up doing was telling legends! However, for a diversion technique, Legolas was paying a lot of attention to them. This afternoon his realm would have to wait. All was well. First thing next morning would be 'the king's business' again. He left his robe hanging on his bed and in his embroidered tunic and pants he went to find his son. This afternoon would be 'a father's business'!   
  


The captain of his guard told him that Legolas had gone out hunting before daybreak, but a cook told him that Legolas had collected some food near midday... Where did the boy go? Thranduil started feeling like a fool, inquiring his staff about his son's whereabouts and not getting anywhere, when a thought struck him. As a child, when Legolas did not wanted to be found he would always hide in 'his tree'. Maybe...  
  


Thranduil mounted the stairs to Legolas'ss room. He peeked in. No Legolas. He smiled at the contents of the room: some armour, some weapons, the leftovers from his lunch and... A lot of books! Those last items were not usually found in Legolas's room. Thranduil took one book from a pile. It was about 'The art of forging'; the next one was about the 'Misty Mountains and its adjoining realms, now and then'. Strange! He looked outside and smiled. The sight of his son's golden head in that tree took him years back in time. Years in which he had seen his son's golden head looking down from this tree to see if someone spied him, he had seen that head bent over an arrowhead, bent over an almost dead mouse, bird or squirrel, over a recovering mouse, bird or squirrel and over a healthy, visiting mouse, bird or squirrel. He had seen that head bend over a bow and over nothing at all: just staring into the distance but he had to live 5647 years to see his son's golden head bent over... a book.  
  


"Legolas?" "Ai! Adar! [Ah! Father!] Were you looking for me?" "Yes, no, please." Thranduil motioned when Legolas was getting down from 'his' branch. "Have you started a new hobby, Legolas? After game-hunting, orc-hunting and cave-hunting are you now book-hunting?" Thranduil started towards the window, the sound of Legolas's laughter was like honey to his ears. That laugh was still present in his voice when Legolas answered: "Well, I did promise the generals to try and find everything we have on this Heir of Sauron." Thranduil sat down on the broad rocky windowsill with his back against the frame. He closed his eyes for a minute and let the sun warm his face. Since Legolas, as a thirteen year old, had discovered this broad opening on the outside of the caves, it had been his son's favourite place. The tree outside was the main reason but Thranduil thought the broad flat sides of the opening itself scored high points too.  
  


Legolas observed his father, 'his' branch was level with Thranduil's head. His father looked younger when he was not wearing his robe and 'king's eyes'; as he would call them when he was a young elfling: eyes full of sorrow, full of work.   
  


Suddenly Thranduil opened his eyes and looked at Legolas. "Studying your father Legolas? And what is your diagnosis?" "You look young Adar, without your 'king's eyes'." Thranduil smiled: "Well, sometimes it takes a father's eye to see more than one would see with a king's eye."   
  


To his surprise his son blushed! And then he was treated to the famous frog-in-the-water glass-at-the-state banquet-smile. A smile that had accompanied many more 'highlights' of Legolas's youth. "I think I just saw a frog my son!" Thranduil laughed.   
  


That laughter had broken the small amount of tension Thranduil had felt. "Now, tell me Legolas, what makes you think there is a connection between the Heir of Sauron and the destroyed realm of Eregion?" Legolas looked at his book and frowned: "I was looking for information on one named Nenmírdan; I was told he forged the ring Nenya but I can't seem to find his name in any of these books..." he gestured towards the inside of his room. "That is, I have not quite finished this one. All these books speak of a certain 'Barthmellyrn' as the maker of Nenya." He leafed through the book on his knees. Thranduil looked at his son, finally I'm hearing something more than 'matters concerning the safety of our realm' he thought.  
  


"Adar, you were alive when Eregion fell, do you know anything more then what these books say? Were there any survivors at all? Children perhaps?" Legolas sounded frustrated. Cautiously Thranduil answered: "Yes, I was here when Sauron was battling in Eriador. Though I have not witnessed the remains of Eregion, I've heard from sources around Rivendell that exiles of Númenor reported all Eregion destroyed and Ost-in-Ethil ravaged by Sauron's forces. (3) It was believed, and as we always thought, thoroughly confirmed, that no one survived that massacre."  
  


Still frustrated Legolas said: "It was believed... you thought... You speak as if not certain Adar" Calmly Thranduil answered: "You are right; it was until this day that I believed nobody survived." "It was until THIS day?" Legolas questioned. Thranduil looked his son straight in the eyes and said: "Yes Legolas. You see, Barthmellyrn got his name after the forging of Nenya. As a gift from Galadriel he was allowed to take on the name 'Protector of the Mallorn-trees'. Nenmírdan is almost certainly the family name of Barthmellyrn. Only a member of his family would have been able to give you that name."  
  


* * *

Thranduil was pacing his throne room impatiently while waiting for his son. He had sent all servants away, except for his guard at the door. He had had to turn to his rights as a king to summon any of his captains to call Legolas to him. And the first five times he had done so, Legolas had thought up a valid excuse not to come. Every time again! Thranduil had threatened to bring him in by force if he would not attend his summons this time.   
  


First shock, then horror and finally fear had shown on Legolas's face the day they had their conversation about Eregion. He had looked at his father, offered him the book and then disappeared into the trees at a high speed. Thranduil had called after him; without any result. Since then Legolas had made it a day and night job to avoid his father. After a fortnight Thranduil had had enough of it. So he started with asking and ultimately summoning his son to talk to him. And now... finally the door on the other side of the room opened and his guard announced the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen.   
  


Legolas walked half-way through the room then kneeled and bowed his head: he greeted his king. "I'm glad you could spare me some time Legolas, would you be so kind to explain your behaviour to me?" His son remained silent. "Do you have anything to say to me Legolas?" More silence. "Fine! You can have it your way and play captain and king Legolas, but you will listen to me!" Thranduil said angrily. "I am your king! And I'm good at it! One of the reasons I'm good at being a king is that I combine information from one source with another. Like from a captain reporting to his king and from a son asking for old stories to be told!" Suddenly Legolas got up and started towards the door. "No! You will stay here and listen to me!" Thranduil's voice boomed through the room. Legolas stopped, but he did not turn to face his father.   
  


Softer Thranduil continued to his son's back: "I'm also your father Legolas, and when I look at you I see that you found someone that makes you whole, cancels out your restlessness... someone that completes you..." A sad tone crept into Thranduil's voice as he continued: "For some reason you've chosen not to tell me about this person. That hurts, but..."  
  


Abruptly Legolas turned and faced his father, despair clearly written on his face: "But I promised! I promised not to tell, Adar, neither if you would ask me as your captain nor if you would ask me as your son. I have evaluated that the safety of our realm was not in question." He dropped his head: "I'm sorry my king..." and softer he added: "Adar..."  
  


"As I was saying," Thranduil continued, "It hurts but I presume you have your reasons. I'm just glad that you seemed so happy." "Im trenóriel Adar, Im prestannen." [I've promised father, I'm sorry; lit. I told father, I affected].   
  


Suddenly they were disturbed by a commotion near the doors. They heard one of the guards yell: "Daro! Ava-nedledhich, darhatha!" [Stop! You will not go in, you'll have to wait!]. There was some tumult and a group of guards entered the room, seemingly trying to keep someone out. All of a sudden one of them cried out: "Magol!" [Sword].  
  


Legolas turned and stepped in front of his father, long knives drawn. He pushed his father further away from the group at the other side of the room. But Thranduil drew his own sword and stood next to Legolas. "Stand back!" Legolas yelled at him: "I am your captain!" He tried to push his father back again, but Thranduil kept his position: "And I am your father!" he yelled back.  
  


"And I am just so glad I found you!" a clear voice came from the group on the other side of the room.  
  


"Thûlocuil?!"   
  


On hearing the tone of his son's voice, seeing his eyes and body language, Thranduil put his sword away. He signalled the guards to leave with a nod of gratitude. So this is what's more my son, he thought.  
  
  
  


(1) I suppose they renamed the place where the Black Gate stood. So I named it: Black Fall (since 'ruin' was not in my sindarin dictionary).  
  


(2) This is most certainly superfluous but: Illúvar is the one that created the World and those who inhabit it. Melkor and Manwë were brothers in the mind of Ilúvatar. Melkor decided to gain power for himself alone; he was the first Dark Lord. He was ultimately banished from the world. Manwë is the greatest of the Valar, he dwells in his halls on Taniquetil, the highest mountain, from where he commands the winds and airs of Arda.   
  


(3) Ost-in-Ethil was the chief city in Eregion; it was destroyed with the realm itself when Sauron in 1697 (Second Age) was annexing much of Eriador. He was finally driven back into the east by an army of Númenor. The exiles of Númenor is a name given by Elrond to the survivors of the Downfall of Númenor (3319 Second Age).

  
  


A/N: 14-08-2003: bench of course should have been branch; as it is now!


	24. Rîn o'Môr

Disclaimer: The world of Tolkien is so beautiful; I only borrow it for a little more time. I do not make money with this, but it does generate a lot of happiness (and writers block, then and again!). I can only hope that Elbereth will look down on me once like she does at the end of this story.  
  


24 Rîn o'Môr.  
  


Legolas stared down the hall. There, sword drawn, was Thûlocuil! She was here! Here in Eryn Lasgalen, here inside his father's caves! He could not believe his eyes. She was really standing there with a smile on her face and in her eyes that roguish look as if to say 'Well, what do you say to that!'  
  


"B-but I thought..." he stammered: "You s-said... Y-you would not..." And then with a broad grin he concluded: "You're here!" Her eyes shone like a tree's bark after a summer's cloud-burst, her smile broadened. He walked over and took her hand. "Welcome to Eryn Lasgalen," he kissed the back of her hand, "I hope your trip to and through," he cast her a look, "our realm was not troubled."  
  


Her laughter tinkled through the hall like the sound of a final rain after a muggy day. "I know what I've said," he was struck again by the radiance of her eyes. "But there is something I have to show you Legolas. So, I came here." She made it sound simple, but he knew better. "And the trip..." he asked softly, not letting go of her hand. She sighed and smiled simultaneously: he did not know that was possible. "The trip, well, let's say that it was useful to learn that your guards are not too pleased with strangers who walk in here carrying a sword openly." He had to let go of her hand as she made a gesture towards her sword, hanging from her belt, when she mentioned it.   
  


Disbelieve was still obvious in his voice when he asked: "You came to Eryn Lasgalen just to show me something?" The emphasis on me was not meant to be heard, but he could not help himself. She had come here for him, for HIM! "Well," he continued, "you've faced the guards so... What do you have to show me?"  
  


There was that broad grin again, she observed. He sounds eager as a little elfling who's been given a surprise and promised an even better one, she thought and laughed again. "It's not here Legolas. I could not bring it with me. You'll have to come with me to..." She had almost forgotten the presence of his father, now she cast him a look. Thranduil sat on his throne, following with great interest the conversation that evolved between his son and this mysterious lady. On his face was an amusing smile. Thranduil had been right about himself when he stated that he was good at combining information. The moment he saw her, he was convinced she was the source of the name 'Nenmírdan'. He had caught on and understood that his son's worry for her safety while travelling did not apply to coming to his realm; it applied to travelling through it. Another, most important, piece of information came from the ease with which she put his son in the first place, seeming to completely overlook the king's presence. Which she was not, she was fully aware of him, she knew of his presence, she knew who and what he was. She couldn't have missed the shouting between Legolas and himself the moment she walked in here. She was aware of him, but Legolas was clearly the one that mattered.   
  


Thûlocuil recovered and rephrased her sentence: "You'll have to come back with me." Legolas eyes had taken on a dazed expression. "I have to come with you?" he slowly said, not for one moment taking his eyes from hers. I'm going to travel with her to Mordor he thought! He said: "That's at least going to take two weeks!" Thûlocuil's face fell a bit. "I hope it's not a problem." she said, "But you REALLY have to come with me Legolas," she said. Another huge smile immediately reassured her. "No, no problem at all! Any problem there is I will solve!" I could spent days looking into these eyes, he thought.  
  


How right I was, my son, Thranduil thought looking at them, this definitely is 'more'! He cleared his throat. Thûlocuil was the first to look at him, and Thranduil had the feeling his son only looked at him to see what she was looking at. "Ai... Adar...,"[Oh... Father...] the way Legolas said those two words was like he tried hard to remember someone he met a long, long time ago. "Ai, Adar!" he said again, like waking up. I'm glad he still knows who I am, Thranduil thought and a bemused smile showed on his face. "Ai Adar," Three times, Thranduil thought. "Adar, this is..." Legolas fell silent; he did not know what to say. How much could he tell his father, now that she was here? Thranduil saw his son's confused face, but suddenly it lit up again. "Ai, Adar," he started again. She will be impressed by your vocabulary, Thranduil thought, but he remained patient. "This is the person we were just talking about," with a conceit smile on his how-did-I-manage-that-face Legolas turned again to Thûlocuil.  
  


She kneeled down before the king, for a moment her head was bowed, then she looked Thranduil in the eyes and said: "My name is Thûlocuil," she turned her head from Thranduil to Legolas, standing next to her, and looked at him when she said: "My name is Thûlocuil O'Môr (1) and I wish to pay my respect to you, Thranduil, King of Eryn Lasgalen."  
  


He had already suspected her to be 'the person we were just talking about'; as he had stated before: he was Legolas's father too. But it was not until she stated her full name that the pieces started to fall in place fast, tumbling over each other in their speed to do so: the legend of the Gadorben [Prisoner]; his son's behaviour; even the legend of the Heir of Sauron and finally the emotions on their two faces before him right now. Legolas first emotion had been proud and it applied to her but that passed quickly. The look in his son's eyes now applied to himself and their message got easily across: "I'll fight!" Legolas's s hands that were hanging loosely by his side, his feet standing firmly on the ground; it enhanced the image of the awaiting warrior. Her emotions had been more various: a little fright but more respect, self-consciousness and pride. However the emotion that he mostly based his answer on, had been in her eyes from the moment she had said her first words in this hall: love, love for his son.  
  


"Well, Thûlocuil o'Môr, I do hope you'll have time to have dinner with me before you drag my son away."  
  


* * *

It was easier to talk and act as a carefree father than to be one, Thranduil thought with a sigh. He was looking at his own image in his mirror, as he was getting ready for dinner. He did have a good feeling about this and Legolas's judgement counted. His son had already judged that 'the safety of the realm was not in question' and he trusted that judgement. Legolas had been brought up in a world that was constantly threatened by evil, he was the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, one of its most skilled captains and he had been part of the Fellowship. His son had seen more war in his short life than he himself had in his long one; the War of the Last Alliance and all! But the idea that someone was out there stating to be 'from Mordor', and however with some fright, doing it proudly, made him restless. Somehow he felt he had to know everything there was about this lady before he could let his son take this trip. He smiled, when talking about children and 'letting go' mortals were always excused by their short life-time, well, from first-hand experience he could tell that time did not have anything to do with it: even when they were 2953 years old it was still hard not to over-care for one's children! He stared at his reflection and took a decision...   
  


Legolas and Thûlocuil were in the library. Wanting to meet as less other persons as possible, especially not his men who would recognize her, Legolas had decided that the library would provide the solitude and quietness he was looking for. Deep in his heart he knew he did not do this for her benefit only, he just wanted to keep her 'for his own' a while longer. And didn't she like books? He knew about her equal interest in weaponry, but an encounter with one of his men was far more likely to occur within the armoury then inside the library. They had talked and laughed and laughed and talked, it had been just perfect! He had tried to coax information out of her about what she wanted to show him. But she did not falter one bit. "Legolas?" "Thûlocuil?" "Did you ever felt the inclination to stare at me when we first met?" "No, not the first time..." he said and continued in thought: but you bet I stared after the second time on that training field in Gondor! She blushed and he couldn't help grinning. "Why do you ask?" he said when he felt the teasing had continued long enough. "A lot of elves do," she answered. He could see she was seriously annoyed. "Who doesn't?" he inquired. "You, well, not the first time anyway..." the look in his eyes made her laugh, she had defeated him with his own weapons; she carried on: "Arwen, your men and your father" she had become serious again. Thinking out loud he said: "Elves you say, not man, not dwarves?" "Not even hobbits and especially not orcs, but hey, they don't usually get the time to stare..." she said. "You've met hobbits?" There was that grin of his again. "Sorry," he said, "to get back to your question: I think it is because of your sword. She-elves who wear them openly and with ease, like you do, are rare, I only know..." she looked expectantly at him: "...one!" he couldn't help himself grinning again. "You!" she started but was interrupted by someone opening the door: it was Thranduil.  
  


"Ah, there you are!" he said, taking in the scene in front of him. The smiles on their faces, the light in their eyes, he almost felt guilty... almost. "Well, I came to tell you that dinner will be served in about half an hour and that I need you," he looked at Legolas, "to look into some documents before you leave." "Adar!" "No, Legolas, I mean this. I have asked a clerk to bring them up to your room. So..." he looked expectantly at his son. Legolas gave in. "Well, then I'll escort our guest to her room to change," he held out his hand to her. Thûlocuil stood up and girded her sword. "Oh, don't worry, my son, you just go bother about those documents, I'll be honoured to escort our guest," Thranduil bowed slightly towards Thûlocuil. She looked from the son to the father and back again. "Adar!" "No, Legolas, really, you're skills as a captain are needed..." Thranduil held his own hand out to Thûlocuil and stepped aside to let her pass, thus screening of Legolas. But his mentioning of the fact that Legolas was his captain as a king was hint enough. "Oh, Adar, let me open the doors for you two," Legolas over-politely offered. "I'll see you at dinner then..." he said to them when they parted ways but the message in his eyes was meant for his father only and it clearly stated: "I'll fight!" and with that Legolas turned. That's the second time I got that threat this day, Thranduil thought.   
  


Making small-talk Thranduil and Thûlocuil walked through the caves. Thranduil let her to a secluded garden. "Maybe we could sit down here," he suggested when they came to a bench. Observing how her fingertips lightly touched the hilt of her sword, he added: "Just lay it on your knees." She looked betrayed and surprised. She knew that with a sword on her knees, she would be able to do him harm before he tried anything on her. By allowing this, he made clear that his intentions meant no harm, at least no bodily. She nodded. When they were seated, Thranduil sighed. "There were of course no documents that needed Legolas's immediate attention." She arched her brows. "I just wanted to have a talk with you without him around." Thranduil continued. He looked at her, something in her posture made him feel like he should ask her permission. He shrugged, he was a king! "You stated that your name was Thûlocuil O'Môr; what is your intention with that land?" When she answered him her eyes got a glance like she had an authority unknown to him: "I intend to make sure that life and light returns to it... as it deserves in my opinion!" Thranduil was taken by surprise, he had intended to interrupt her but with her voice and eyes she had prevented him, him: the last King of Elves in Middle Earth! "I hope we agree that it has seen enough darkness to last the lifetime of Arda itself," she continued.   
  


It was then that, with a sudden insight, Thranduil, King of Eryn Lasgalen, the last Elven-King in Middle Earth grasped a sliver of the intention of the Valar and the true meaning of the Legend of the Heir. He nodded as a token of respect and said: "Your people would have been proud of you, child of Eregion, Lady of Mordor!" This time it was Thûlocuil who was completely stunned. "H-how..." she started while her hands automatically gripped the hilt of her weapon. Thranduil recognized the almost instinctively reaction of a warrior and smiled. The moment her eyes darkened he continued: "Don't. He didn't. Legolas kept his promise. He didn't tell me." "B-but..." "Like I was telling him when you interrupted our conversation this morning: I'm good at combining information from one source to another. That helped. But you gave yourself away the moment you walked into my throne room: you look every bit as an elf of Eregion, your stance, the colour of your eyes and hair even the way it is braided. It is strange to hear you not talk with their accent." Thûlocuil was too overwhelmed to say anything; she could only stare at Thranduil, tears flowing silently from her eyes. "My son's answer about the staring only counts for the younger elves of my realm. The elder stare because they see what I saw: an elf of a people that was thought lost forever."  
  


* * *

The trip to Mordor had been all he had expected from it and more. It was so good to see her relaxed. It was good to get to know her better; she had humour and little habits like always breaking of the left bottom corner of a lemba before eating the rest of it or to whistle to the moon sometimes at night, soft and seemingly not aware of her surroundings. When they had entered Mordor she showed him secret cisterns that contained water on the way. They were the remnants of the ones that had provided Sam with the last water for his master Frodo. At one of those cisterns they had made camp for the night. Thûlocuil was on watch, but Legolas was not sleeping but just lying awake and watching her instead. Without looking at him she said: "If you have no intention to sleep at all, maybe we could travel this night." She turned her head and continued: "I know this land and what I want to show you is more beautiful at night."   
  


They had been walking for only a short time when she suddenly stopped. "Ha gellin!" [They have grown!] she whispered and started to run, she shouted: "Tolo Legolas!" [Come Legolas!] They came closer and closer. There was a soft light, coming from the desert's soil in the distant. When they stopped they were standing on a carpet of stars! "They are flowers, Legolas! Flowers, here in Mordor! When I returned from my last travels to Ithilien I found them inside my room. They grow out of the little cave behind the curtain. Their stalk is thick and full of fluid but protected from the sun by a thick, fleshy layer. They're leafless and their flowers only grow at night. They survive one night and the next morning they wither. The wind distributes their light pollen in the morning, but they merely increase by use of rhizomes. Very long rhizomes: I've dug one up that is about eighty feet long!" She looked around like a child does when it sees snow for the first time. "This is what I had to show you! Doesn't it just take your breath away?" she asked him. "Yes, it does." Legolas said, but he was watching her observing her happiness in her voice and face and from that moment on he knew he would love her forever. She was the one and only person he wanted to share his live with, no matter her future or history. "You made this be Legolas, your memory... that was the thing I could not give to Mordor, for it was not in my veins." She took his hands in hers and looked in his eyes: "This is all your work Legolas; you gave the earth back its remembrance, your remembrance. You are the remembrance of Mordor and for this I'll be eternally grateful." She stepped even closer to him, with their lips almost touching she whispered: "Thank you Rîn o'Môr." [Remembrance of Mordor] Legolas whispered back: "What is a remembrance without a breath of life? It is only half, no not even half, it is death..." and then they kissed.   
  


And Elbereth smiled; for it had been foretold since the beginning of time that for the remembrance and the lifebreath only in their union laid their subsistence.

(1) 'Breath of Life of Mordor' her full name, given by Sauron.  
  


(2) Elbereth was the spouse of Manwë. She set stars in the sky, for which she was named 'star-lady' by the Elves.

  
  


A/N: 14-08-2003: Just changed a bit; a great idea from a reader!


	25. Epilogue

The last disclaimer: I do not own anything that is already owned. However I do own now a completed story!

  
  


25. Epilogue

  
  


Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Eryn Lasgalen and son of its Lord Thranduil was back in his native country. He was sitting in one of its trees, on a top branch. It was just before dawn and the view was breathtaking. He listened to the wind and felt it, it was a warm breeze. He leaned back against the trunk and felt whole.

  
  


Suddenly the wind picked up and in it he could her pieces of his past and future: 

  
  


Legolas, Greenleaf, Rîn o'Môr, King of the elves of Eryn Lasgalen and Lord of Mordor.

  
  


What is a remembrance without a breath of life? It is only half, no not even half, it is death...

  
  


Neniel, daughter of water, daughter of Nenmírdan, water in a dessert is as a breath of life...

  
  


Thûlocuil O'Môr, Breath of Life of Mordor, Sûmob Slaiumlob Mordôrob, Gadroben, The Prisoner, Master Warrior, Heir of Mordor, Lady of Mordor, Queen of the elves of Eryn Lasgalen... 

  
  


The view before his eyes changed and he could see Mordor develop. The vegetation was, like its Lady, one of a kind, unseen before in Middle Earth: a night-vegetation that lived not of the light of the sun, but of the light of the moon, because its origin had been inside a dark cave. There was the Elisil (Moon-star) that was the Minelloth (First flower) for it was the first thing growing in Mordor after the Ringwar. Its flowers reflected the moonlight, so with the passing of years, Mordor looked like a carpet of stars at night, like Elbereth herself had come down. The place were it all begun was named Parth Elenath (Starry field) and there appeared a new and large house, it had not the looks of a palace, yet it was, with a bedroom in it that only could be reached trough the garden, down a stone stairway and through corridors strewn with fluorescent stones. 

  
  


A strange mixture of people inhabited the land. Dwarves who explored mines from which dept stones were dug up that were going to play a significant role in the history of Arda; Men from Gondor and Ithilien and some even from the eastern regions like Khand and Rhûn and Elves, some from Greenwood (1) but Legolas could hear the voices of elflings and Thûlocuil saying: "A dwarf-midwife... An elf for the healing and a dwarf to keep your head cool is what every woman should have while giving birth"; followed by a familiar dwarf-voice crying out in joy: "There are sane ones in this race of elves after all!"

  
  


Then came his own voice saying: "I told you once I could kill at least a dozen of orcs with one finger? Well, bring on a gross this time!" And then, swift like a raging tornado names came on the wind: Elisil, Moon-star; the name of the first flower in Mordor for the first child. She would become the second Lady of Mordor after her mother; 

Gildin, Silver spark; who inherited her mother's ability of 'sensing life'. There was the promise of another love story with Aragorn and Arwen's son Eldarion. In a flash he subconsciously felt the pain in his heart when she gave up her mortality, like Arwen did, to marry Eldarion. So the son took after the father...

  
  


But the pain was gone before he was aware of it as the last two names came up: Ithilwen, Moon girl and Ránarod, Noble moon; but also: noble, not certain of his path. This last son became king of all the elves of Eryn Lasgalen through his father's line. He married a descendent from Haldir. The uncertain bit was not clear as the whirl of air started to calm down...

  
  


And suddenly the wind dropped and a soft whisper filled his head:

  
  


"Melamin..." 

  
  


Legolas looked at Thûlocuil in his arms and even before she could finish the word, he kissed her.

  
  


With that the first beams of sunlight spread over the tops of Mirkwood.

  
  


(1) "Legolas also brought south Elves out of Greenwood, and they dwelt in Ithilien, and it became once again the fairest country in all the westlands. But when King Elessar gave up his life Legolas followed at last the desire of his heart and sailed over the sea." Appendix A, LOTR.

  
  


Thanks to all you out there who sent me so many beautiful reviews. It was wonderful to write. 


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